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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


^ 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this 
copy  which  may  be  bibliogiraphically  unique, 
which  may  alter  any  of  tha  images  in  the 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checked  below. 


n 


D 
D 

n 
□ 
n 

□ 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


□    Covers  damaged/ 
Couverture  endommag^e 


D 


Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurie  et/ou  pelliculAe 

Cover  title  missing/ 

Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 

Coloured  maps/ 

Cartes  g^ographiques  en  couleur 

Coloured  inlt  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 

Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 
Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
Relid  avec  d'autres  documents 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  rel'.ure  serree  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  intdrieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  the  s 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajout^es 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte, 
mais,  lorsque  cela  dtait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  6X6  filmies. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  suppl^mentaires; 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  M  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-Atre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  mithode  normale  de  filmage 
sont  indiquAs  ci-dessous. 


I      I    Coloured  pages/ 


D 


D 
D 


Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagdes 


I      I    Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 


ages  restaurdes  et/ou  pellicul6es 

ages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxei 
Pages  d6color6es,  tachetdes  ou  piqudes 

Pages  detached/ 
Pages  d^tachdes 

Showthrough/ 
Transparence 

Quality  of  prir 

Quality  in^gale  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  materii 
Comprend  du  materiel  supplementaire 


I    ~l  Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 

I      I  Pages  detached/ 

r~pi  Showthrough/ 

I      I  Quality  of  print  varies/ 

I      I  Includes  supplementary  material/ 


Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 

Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  partiellement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata.  une  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  6t6  film^es  d  nouveau  de  fapon  d 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


This  iten-  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  filmd  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqui  ci-dessous. 


10X 

14X 

18X 

22X 

26X 

30X 

/ 

12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


9 

Stalls 
8  du 

lodifier 
r  une 
Image 


Th«  copy  film«d  h«r«  has  b««n  r«produc«d  thanks 
to  tha  ganarosity  of: 

University  of  British  Columbia  Library 


The  imagas  appaaring  hara  ara  tha  bast  quality 
possibia  considaring  tha  condition  and  lagibility 
of  tha  original  copy  and  in  Itaaping  with  tha 
filming  contract  spacifications. 


L'axamplaira  film*  fut  raprodult  grAca  A  la 
ginArositi  da: 

University  of  British  Columbia  Library 


Um  imagas  suivantws  ont  At*  reproduitas  avac  la 
plus  grand  soin.  compta  tanu  da  la  condition  at 
da  la  nattttt*  da  i'axamplaire  filmA,  at  en 
conformity  avac  las  conditions  du  contrat  da 
filmaga. 


Original  copias  in  printad  papar  covars  ara  filmad 
beginning  with  tha  front  covar  and  ending  on 
tha  last  page  with  a  printad  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  ara  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printad  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


IS 


Las  aKamplairas  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimAe  sont  filmAs  en  commen9ant 
par  la  premier  plat  at  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
damiAre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'imprassion  ou  d'iliustration,  soit  par  la  second 
plat,  salon  le  cas.  Tous  las  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  filmAs  en  commencant  par  la       , 
premiere  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'imprassion  ou  d'iliustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  derniAre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  — »>  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED "),  or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END  "). 
whichever  applies. 


Un  das  symboles  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
derniAre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  — »>  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbols  ▼  signifie  'FIN". 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  Atre 
filmte  A  des  taux  de  reduction  diffArents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  Atre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clichA,  il  est  film*  A  partir 
de  Tangle  supArieur  gauche,  de  gauche  A  droite, 
et  de  heut  en  bas,  an  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  nAcessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mAthode. 


errata 
to 


pelure, 
}n  d 


n 


32X 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

Between  Whiles 


A    COLLECTION 
...OK  VERSES... 


BY 


ARTHUR  BARRY  O'NEILL,  C.S.C 


1 1 


AKRON.  O. 
CHICAGO       NEW  YORK 

D.  H.  MCBRIDE  &  COMPANY 


Copyright  1899 

BY 

D.  H.  McBRIDE  &  COMPANY 


Nimquam  sis  ex  toto  otiosus;  sed  aut  legens  aut  scribens. 

THOMAS  A  KEMPIS. 


Be  never  wholly  idle, 

Than  which  there's  nothing  worse; 
But  read  some  goodly  volume, 

Or  even  — scribble  verse. 


CONTENTS 


MARIAN    SONGS    AND    SONNETS 


.      .  PAOB 

My  Queen i  r 

A  Madonna 12 

A  Paraphrase 13 

Queen  of  the  May 14 

The  Memorare 15 

Queen  of  the  World 16 

To  a  Child  of  Mary 17 

To  the  Immaculate 18 

At  Lourdes 19 

In  May 20 

Madonna  Mia 21 

To  THE  Virgin-Mother  of  Sorrows 22 

The  Magnificat 24 

Salve  Regina 25 

Bernard's  Prayer  26 

A  May-Shrine 27 

Our  Lady's  Favorites 28 

In  Affliction 29 

The  Colors  of  Carmei 30 

The  Maytime 31 

«  TOTA    PULCHRA    Es » 32 

The  Treasure  of  the  Autumntide 33 

An  Invocation 34 

An  Angel's  Part 35 

In  Ransom 36 

Inadequate 37 

(V) 


im 


VI 


CONTENTS 


PAOB 

Our  Lady's  Miracles 38 

To  Our  Lady  of  Light 39 

Stabat  Mater  Steciosa 40 

To  Our  Lady  in  November 4O 

The  Litany  of  Our  Lady 47 

Ave  Maria  50 

«  Si'Es  Nostra  » 51 

On  Our  Lady's  Visitation 52 

A  Thought  on  the  Presentation 53 

The  Rose-Garden 54 

The  First  Witness 55 

Our  Lady's  Month 56 

The  Immaculate 57 

In  Mid- Atlantic 58 

A  Treasure  Gained 59 

Assumpta  Est 60 


M 


OTHER  DEVOTIONAL  VERSES 

A  Refuge  Blest 63 

An  Autumn  Aspiration 64 

Peace 65 

Echoes  in  Autumntide 67 

Exiles 68 

The  Fourth  Station 70 

A  Thought  for  Christmas 72 

Life's  Passion 72 

Sacerdos  Alter  Christus 73 

An  Envied  Lot 74 

When  Eva  Died 75 

«  Veni,  Sequere  Me  » 76 

Strife  or  Rest  ? 77 

Purity  of  Intention 79 

«  Miseremini  Mei  » 79 

The  First  Christmas 81 

A  Trusty  Pilot 83 

On  a  Feast-Day 84 

Premonitions 86 


CONTENTS 


vn 


PAOB 


A  Snowfai.i.  on  Ai.I-  Souls' 88 

A  Cliknt  of  the  Rosary 90 

l.ovK  IN  DisciUisE 92 


RosKs  AM)   Thorns 
A  Vkar  Ago  


Two  Stars. 


A   I'KIKNI)  THK   LksS, 
TlIK    I)K    I'KoKUNDIS. 


93 

94 

95 

,....     96 

98 

VViiF.RK  \Vk  I ,Aiu  Him 09 

May  Tiiky  Rf:st  in  Peach loi 

Death's  Advent 102 

The  Mother  of  Mercy 103 

The  Dead  Hand  of  Folk.no 105 

Lovf:'s  Touchstone 106 

NovEMHER  Feasts 107 

To  Sisters  in  Religion 108 

Repentance 109 

An  Anniversary no 

Human    Respect in 

Queen  and  Nun 112 

The  Way  of  the  Cross 113 

To  Friends 1 14 

In  Thanksgiving 115 


IN  VARIOUS  KEYS 

The  New  Year's  Guerdon 119 

A  Thought 120 

To  an  Absent  Friend 121 

Life's  Golden  Bowi 122 

Generosity 123 

Deceitful  Calms 124 

Giants 125 

Memory 126 

At  a  Grave  in  Winter 127 

The  Vacant  Chair 128 

To  Agnes  on  Her  Birthday 129 

Life's  Heroes 130 


viii  CONTENTS 

PAOK 

A  Birthday  Gkeetin(; 132 

Thk  IIoi.y  Innocents 133 

Musings '34 

The  Death  of  a  Rei.kmous 135 

Ideals  ok  Youth 137 

Hoy  and  Man 141 

To  M.  B.  F 142 

Dreamino 143 

Beneath  the  Rose I45 

Day  by  Day MS 

«  Will  You  be  My  Friend  ?» 146 

F:choes  of  Twilight 150 

Some  Day 151 

In  a  Young  Lady's  Album 152 

A  Changeless  Law 152 

My  Letter I53 

At  Close  of  Day I54 

In  Summer-tide 156 

Love  of  Mother i57 

On  a  Priest's  Golden  Jubilee 158 

Stemminc;  the  Current i59 

John  Boyle  O'Reilly 160 

A  Reward 161 

The  Price  of  Fame 162 

Unshaken  Trust 163 

The  Planting  of  the  Cross 164 

Envy 165 

The  Duty  of  Praise 166 

Steadfastness 167 

An  Unchanging  Problem 168 

Hope 169 

Judge  Not i7o 

Enduring  Fame 171 

The  Legend  of  Brother  Eugene 172 

In  Other  Days  and  Now 180 


MARIAN  SONGS  AND  SONNETS 


(Ix) 


MY  QUEEN 


ICTORS  in  tourney  for  love  and  duty, 
Chivalrous  knights  in  their  golden  prime 
Knelt  at  the  throne  of  the  Queen  of  Beauty, 

Ages  agone,  in  the  olden  time. 
Kneeling  they  proffered,  and  deemed  it  honor, 

Guerdons  of  valor,  the  tourney's  prize ; 
More  than  repaid  just  to  gaze  upon  her, 

Reading  their  bliss  in  her  lovelit  eyes. 


Lances  no  longer  we  tilt  for  glory. 

Gone  is  the  pomp  of  the  tourney  now ; 
Still,  like  the  knights  of  the  olden  story, 

Lovers  the  queens  of  their  hearts  avow. 
Peerless  is  mine:   with  her  grace  none  other 

E'er  may  compete,  here  below  c.  above,- 
Queen  all  unrivaled,  O  Mary  Mother, 

Grant  for  my  guerdon  one  smile  of  love. 


(") 


12 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


A  MADONNA 


JUST  where  the  silvery  moonbeams  fall, 
Above  the  desk,  on  my  study  wall 
There  gleams  a  visage  more  sweet  than  all 

I  have  fancied  of  nymph  or  fairy ; 
E'en  when  the  shadows  enfold  the  room, 
I  see  it  still  through  the  shrouding  gloom  — 
No  night  so  dark  as  to  hide  the  bloom 
Of  that  pictured  face  of  Mary. 


Madonna  fair  of  an  artist's  dream, 

To  me  as  to  him  dost  thou  living  seem ; 

Full  oft  from  thine  eyes  benedictions  gleam 

That  incite  me  to  fresh  endeavor. 
O  Mother  mine,  may  the  tender  grace 
That  hath  won  my  love  for  thy  pictured  face. 
Still  guard  my  heart  from  affections  base 

Till  I  gaze  on  thyself  forever. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


13 


A  PARAPHRASE 


WHO  Cometh  forth  as  the  morning  rising, 
Fair  as  the  moon,  bright  as  the  sun? 
Ah,  who  but  that  gem  of  our  God's  devising, 
Of  all  earth's  daughters  the  spotless  one. 

Lily  she,  midst  the  thorns  of  ages, 

Peerless  in  bloom  and  for  aye  to  reign, 

Sung  of  old  by  the  Prince  of  Sages : 

"Thoii  art  all  fair,  — in  thee  no  stain." 

Let  whosoe'er  her  grandeur  measures, 

Heed  well  the  words  from  on  high  that  fall  : 

"  Full  many  daughters  have  gathered  treasures. 
Thou,  my  love,  hast  surpassed  them  all." 


14 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


QUEEN  OF  THE  MAY 


HARK  to  the  hymns  that  are  heavenward  swell- 
ing 
Morning  and  eve  all  around  the  wide  world, 
See    from    each    shrine,  blossom-decked    for    her 
dwelling, 
Incense-clouds  floating  like  banners  unfurled. 
Fragrance  and  song  to  her 
Bring  all  who  throng  to  her, 
Children  of  Mary,  their  homage  to  pay, 
While  from  each  heart  to  her, 
Love-arrows  dart  to  her, 
Peerlessly  beautiful  Queen  of  the  May. 


Virginal  Queen,  with  their  myriad  voices, 

Earth,  sea,  and  sky  swell  the  chorus  of  men ; 
All  thy  Son's  universe  blithely  rejoices. 

Welcoming  fondly  thine  own  month  again, — 
Month  the  most  dear  to  us, 
Fullest  of  cheer  to  us. 
Blest  by  thy  graces  illuming  our  way : 
Mother,  above  to  thee 
Send  we  our  love  to  thee ; 
Deign  to  accept  it,  sweet  Queen  of  the  May. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


IS 


THE  MEMORARE 


NOT  for  his  age  alone  was  Bernard  speaking, 
O  Virgin  Mother,  'mongst  all  women  blest, 
When  thy  assistance  in  his  sore  need  seeking, 
The  Memorare  voiced  his  soul's  request. 

He  echoed  but  a  prayer  that  long  resounded 
In  fainting  hearts  o'er  all  the  woful  earth, 

The  cry  for  help  of  those  whom  sin  hath  wounded 
In  every  age  since  Christ  the  Savior's  birth. 

The  echoes  of  an  echo,  we  repeat  it 

With  all  of  Bernard's  confidence  and  love ; 

And  now  as  ever  dost  thou  kindly  greet  it. 
And  grant  it,  Mother,  in  thy  home  above. 


i6 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


QUEEN  OF  THE  WORLD 


SUNBEAMS  o'er  woodland  and  dell  are  dancing, 
Starry-eyed     blossoms     from      meads     are 
glancing, 
Full-throated  songsters  their  notes  entrancing 

Carol  the  livelong  day; 
Whisper  the  breezes  of  new-born  pleasures, 
Murmur  the  streamlets  in  blithest  measures, — 
Nature  hath  lavished  her  choicest  treasures, 
Greeting  the  Queen  of  the  May. 


Fairest  of  sovereigns  sung  in  story, 
Peerless  in  mercy  and  power  and  glory, 
Promised  to  earth  from  the  ages  hoary, 

Destined  to  reign  for  aye; 
Mary,  our  Mother,  from  Heaven's  splendor 
Beams  on  us  all  with  a  love-glance  tender, — 
Who  but  shall  hail  and  at  need  defend  her. 

Queen  of  the  world  and  of  May. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


17 


TO  A  CHILD  OF  MARY 


''I 


ancing, 
ads     are 

cing 

es, — 

es,     ; 

ay. 


lor 
r, — 

lay. 


IXTHAT  though  the  shadows  crowd  thick  and 

On  the  road  thou  fain  wouldst  follow? 
vVhat  though  the  storm-wind's  furious  blast 

Sweeps  fiercely  o'er  hill  and  hollow  ? 
Be  faith  and  hopeful  courage  thine, 

Nor  let  thy  purpose  vary : 
Through  gloom  and  tempest  the  stars  still  shine 

For  the  fervent  child  of  Mary. 

The  shadows  that  gather  the  long  night  through 

Are  scattered  when  dawns  the  morning, 
The  tempest  sweeps  by,  and  the  heavens  blue 

Are  aglow  with  the  sun's  adorning. 
Though  lowering  doubts  obscure  thy  way, 

Fear  not  that  woe  shall  betide  thee : 
In  darkest  gloom  as  in  lightsome  day. 

Thy  Mother  blest  will  guide  thee. 


1 


I8 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


TO  THE  IMMACULATE 


STAR  of  the  Morning,  whose  splendor  illumined 
Shadows   that  dark    o'er    the    primal    world 
lay, 
Still  doth  thy  glory  redeem  the  sad  story 
Angels  record  of  mankind  day  by  day ; 
Still  art  thou  shining  bright, 
Piercing  the  mists  of  night, 
Steadfastly  gleaming  o'er  life's  troubled  sea ; 
Gladly  we  hail  thy  ray. 
Hopeful  the  while  we  pray, 
"Virgin  Immaculate,  guide  us  to  thee." 


■t 

ii-  I 


Lily  of  Israel !    Nature's  ideal. 
Type  the  most  perfect  of  woman  most  fair. 
Poets  have  hymned  thee  and  painters  have  limned 

thee, 
Art  knows  no  beauty  with  thine  to  compare. 

Lily  all  free  from  stain. 

Soul  in  whom  Grace's  reign 
Ne'er  was  disturbed  by  the  shadow  of  sin ; 

Virgin  Immaculate, 

Teach  us  like  thee  to  bate 
Aught  save  the  glory  that  lies  all  within. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


19 


AT   LOURDES 


ined 
/orld 


sea; 


ir, 
iimned 

pare. 


BEFORE  thy  shrine  I  knelt,  O  gracious  Mother, — 
Thy  far-famed  shrine  amid  the  Pyrenees, — 
And  vainly  sought  the  rising  sobs  to  smother, 

The  while  I  murmured  low  my  fervid  pleas. 
The  Gave's  swift  waters  ceased  their  noisy  brawling, 

Soft  breezes  crooned  a  melody  divine, 
One  almost  heard  the  benedictions  falling 

With  ceaseless  rustling  there  before  thy  shrine. 

Before  thy  shrine  where  myriad  tapers  gleaming 

Around  thy  statue  shone  as  mimic  suns, 
I  knelt  and  gazed  upon  thy  features  beaming 

With  sweet  compassion  on  earth's  stricken  ones. 
The  blind,  the  halt,  the  palsied  there  were  kneeling. 

All  confident  that  thou  wouldst  ne'er  decline 
To  grant  their  prayers,  their  sore  afflictions  healing, 

As  others  thou  hast  healed  before  thy  shrine. 

Before  thy  shrine,  O  tender-hearted  Virgin, 

The  soul's  perceptions  take  a  wider  scope ; 
There,  all  the  heart's  emotions  blend  and  merge  in 

One  fervent  act  of  mingled  love  ?nd  hope. 
There,  earth  becomes  as  nowhere  else  the  portal, 

The  very  threshold  of  thy  Home  divine; 
And  earth's  poor  children  taste  of  bliss  immortal. 

The  while  they  weeping  kneel  before  thy  shrine. 


20 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


IN  MAY 


IN  ARBORS  airy  to  Mother  Mary 
The  sweet  birds  vary  their  songs  of  praise ; 
Though  skies  be  dreary  they  never  weary, 

But  bright  and  cheery  their  carols  raise. 
Her  feasts  of  sorrow  they  know,  and  borrow 

Sad  notes  the  morrow  will  change  to  gay, 
And  earth  rojoices  to  hear  their  voices 

With  raptures  greeting  the  Queen  of  May. 

O  Mother  tender,  our  blest  defender 

We  too  would  render  thee  homage  meet: 
The  birds*  excelling  beyond  all  telling, 

Our  praise  goes  welling  e'en  to  thy  feet. 
No  words  can  measure  the  peace  and  pleasure 

Our  souls  now  treasure  from  day  to  day, 
Nor  sweetest  story  express  the  glory 

We  give  thee,  Mary,  thou  Queen  of  May. 


I 
■I 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


21 


MADONNA  MIA 


w 


EAK  though  my  praise  of  thee, 
Feeble  my  lays  of  thee, 
Tender  Madonna  whose  mercies  I  sing, 
Favors  besought  of  thee 
Render  the  thought  of  thee 
Sweet  as  the  rose-blooms  that  perfume  the  spring. 


Mother,  in  dreams  of  thee 

Come  there  faint  gleams  of  thee, 
Lustrous  in  beauty  and  lovely  as  light: 

Never  did  fairies'  land 

Match  with  the  Mary's  land 
Where  roams  my  soul  in  the  watches  of  night. 

Mother,  whose  prayers  for  me 

Lighten  life's  cares  for  me. 
Still  flood  my  soul  with  the  sunshine  of  peace ; 

And  as  no  other  love 

Equals  thy  mother-love. 
Ne'er  shall  my  praise  of  thee  suffer  surcease. 


wtmmm 


aa 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


TO    THE    VIRGIN-MOTHER    OF 
SORROWS* 


SWEET  spirit  of  Poesy,  mystical  maiden, 
Thou  solace  and  joy  of  my  lengthening  years, 
To  Mary,  my  Mother,  with  sorrow  o'erladen, 

Bear  swiftly  this  tribute  of  love  and  of  tears. 

Though  feeble  the  note  of  her  age -stricken  serv^ant. 
Twill  not  shame  thee  his  song-gift  to  lay  at 
her  shrine; 

And  she  who  ne'er  frowns  on  petitioners  fervent. 
Will  grant  to  the  singer  forgiveness  benign. 

Near  that  shrine  of  my  Mother,  O  would  I  were 
kneeling. 

To  lull  and  to  lessen  her  sevenfold  pain ; 
By  sighs  and  by  tears  my  compassion  revealing. 

Her  robe  the  while  kissing  again  and  again. 

Her  name  I  first  lisped  when  in  life's  sunny  morning 
I  gazed  with  delight  on  her  fair  sculptured  face. 

And,  won  by  the  sweetness  her  visage  adorning. 
Pressed  my  young  lips  to  hers  in  caressing  em 
brace. 


*  From  the  l,atin  of  Rev.  J.  A.  Alizeri,  C.  M. 


BETWEEN  VVmr.ES 


23 


How  blissful  my  heart  in  that  springtime  of  glad- 
ness, 
When  Heaven's  bright  Queen  was  its  first,  only 
love ! 
Now,  freighted  with  sin  and  o'erburdened  with  sad- 
ness, 
It  scarcely  dares  look  to  her  fair  throne  above. 

So,  spirit  of  Song,  in  my  stead,  go  deliver 
My  gift  to  the  Mother  whose  dolors  I  rue; 

But  should  she  inquire  the  name  of  the  giver, 
Conceal  it:  'twould  only  her  sorrow  renew. 

Yet  say  that  my  heart  its  affection  discloses 
By  culling  each  day  in  the  garden  of  prayer 

Choice  blossoms  to  weave  a  coronal  of  roses. 
Fit  wreath  for  the  brow  of  the  Virgin  all  fair. 


Ah,  surely  my  Queen,  not  less  gracious  than  holy. 
Prompt  pardon  will  grant  me,  and  banish  my 
fears ; 
Sweet  mercy  she'll  show  to  her  suppliant  lowly, 
And  perchance  stem  the  tide  of  his  heart-riven 
tears. 


tv\ 


24 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


THE   MAGNIFICAT 


M"  I-: 


Y  GRATEFUL  soul  doth  magnify  the  Lord, 
God  my  Savior  hath  my  spirit  joyed, 


Because  His  humble  handmaid,  all  devoid 
Of  worth,  He  deigns  to  favor  and  reward : 
For  lo  !    He  wills  that  all  who  Him  adore 
Shall  henceforth  call  me  blessed  evermore. 


For  He  that  mighty  is,  great  things  hath  done 
To  me,  His  servant:   holy  is  His  name. 
From  age  to  age  His  mercy  shall  they  claim 

Who  fear  Him,  the  supreme  eternal  One: 

His  arm  a  power  exceeding  great  hath  showed, 
Dispersed  He  those  whose  hearts  gave  pride 
abode. 


|i 


i<  I 


He  hath  put  down  the  mighty  from  their  seat; 
To  raise  instead  the  humble  hath  He  willed : 
The  hungered  ones  with  good  things  He  hath 
filled, 

And,  empty-handed,  bid  the  rich  retreat. 
All  mindful  of  His  mercy  inconceived, 
His  servant  Israel  He  hath  received : 

As  spake  He  to  our  fathers  in  their  day, 

To  Abraham  and  all  his  seed  for  aye. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


25 


i, 

ed, 

evoid 


e. 


a 


SALVE  REGINA 


HAIL,  O  thou  holiest  Queen  of  creation, 
Mother  of  mercy,  Hfe's  comfort  and  hope, 
List  to  our  pleading  for  grace  and  salvation. 
Children  of  Iwe  who  in  exile  still  grope. 
Trust  we  our  souls  to  thy  merciful  keeping, 

Thee  do  we  supplicate,  owning  our  fears, 
Sighing  for  succor  the  while  w^e  are  weeping, 
Pvlourning  our  woes  in  this  valley  of  tears. 


lowed, 
pride 


Come,  then,  our  advocate  kind  and  forbearing, 

Turn  on  us  wistful  thy  pitying  eyes, 
Potent  thy  glance  to  console  the  despairing, 

Soothing  our  sorrows  and  stilling  our  sighs. 
Grant  that  our  love  for  thee  never  may  vary, 

And,   when    dispelled    is    our  banishment's 
gloom,  . 

Merciful,  gracious,  and  sweet  Virgin  Mary, 

Show  to  us  Jesus,  blest  fruit  of  thy  womb. 


f 


26 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


BERNARD'S  PRAYER 


I'  i 


ill  I  1 


I 


REMEMBER,  Mary,  Virgin  tender-hearted, 
How  from  of  old  the  ear  hath  never  heard 
That  he  who  to  thine  arms  for  refuge  darted, 

Implored  thy  help  with  many  an  earnest  word, 
Besought  thy  prayers  and  on  thy  interceding 
With  loving  contidence  and  trust  relied, — 
Did  ever  futile  find  his  fervent  pleading. 
Or  see  thy  grace  and  favor  e'er  denied. 

O  Virgin-Mother,  'mongst  all  mothers  tender. 

With  equal  confidence  to  thee  I  fly. 
To  thee  I  come  a.^  to  a  sure  defender, 

A  weeping  sinner,  unto  thee  I  cry. 
Sweet  Mother  of  the  Word  Incarnate,  hear  me  — 

May  e'en  my  halting  words  efificient  prove  — 
Cast  not  away  my  prayer,  but  deign  to  cheer  me, 

And  let  my  sore  distress  thy  pity  move. 


yi 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


27 


A  MAY-SHRINE 


1, 
heard 

;  word, 


der, 


r  me  — 
rove  — 
eer  me, 


AS  HARBOR  lights  on  darksome  nights 
Gleam  lustrous  through  the  ocean's  gloom- 
ing, 
In  many  a  row  the  tapers  glow, 

Our  Lady's  altar  soft  illuming. 
Shy  blossoms  fair  are  clustered  there, 
The  perfumes  of  the  May  exhaling, 
And  quaint  wreaths  twine  about  the  shrine 
Where  fragrant  incense-clouds  are  trailing. 

O  Mother  sweet,  still  at  thy  feet 

My  harbor  let  me  find  forever, 
That  haven  blest  my  constant  quest, 

To  reach  it,  all  my  life's  endeavor ; 
And  heart  of  mine,  be  thou  a  shrine 

Where  all  fair  blooms  disclose  their  beauty, 
Where  vows  and  sighs  like  incense  rise, 

And  grateful  love  is  one  with  duty. 


'.I 


i. 


28 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


OUR  LADY'S  FAVORITES 


I  » 


THEY    know   thee    but    in   part,  sweet    Mother 
Mary, 
Whose  lives  untroubled  flow  adown  the  years, 
Whose  placid  currents  storm-winds  i.ever  vary, 
Nor  cloud-bursts  quicken  with  a  flood  of  tears. 


I 


They  know  thee  but  in  part,  O  gracious  Virgin, 

Who  have  not  sunk  beneath  the  weight  of  care, 
Nor  seen  hope's  glowing  sunshine  fade  and  merge 
In 
The  cheerless  gloom  of  life's  dread  night,  de- 
spair. 

Not  joy  the  tutor,  Martyr-Queen  of  sorrows, 
That  aids  us  best  to  see  thee  as  thou  art; 

Tis  grief,  the  semblance  of  thine  own  that  borrows. 
Gains  clearest  vision  of  thy  loving  heart. 


We   know  thee   best,  and    love    thee    most,  dear 
Mother, 
Whose    anguished    souls,  in    thy    compassion 
sweet, 
Thou  oft  hast  guided  to  our  Elder  Brother, 
To  leave  us,  solaced,  at  His  blessed  feet. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


39 


IN  AFFLICTION 


Up  FROM  a  heart  oppressed  with  pain, 
On  whose  riven  wreck  the  bitter  rain 
Of  remorseful  tears  doth  fall  in  vain, 

Comes  a  cry  no  grief  can  smother ; 
The  world  is  deaf  to  my  soul's  lament, 
My  friends  proclaim  their  compassion  spent, 
But  thou,  to  whom  my  appeal  is  sent, 
Mcmonirc,  O  gracious  Mother. 


Remember  thy  child,  though  fallen  low. 
Sustain,  while  he  drinks  his  cup  of  woe, 
And  aid  him  so  firm  of  will  to  grow 

That  he  ne'er  need  drink  such  another ; 
In  sore  distress  he  beseeches  thee 
For  the  grace  and  strength  all  sin  to  flee ; 
Ah,  Refuge  of  Sinners,  pray  for  me, 

Memorarc,  O  gracious  Mother. 


30 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


THE    COLORS   OF    CARMEL 


COURSING  to  battle  with  armor  gleaming, 
Heroes  of  chivalry  long  ago 
Caught  from  their  lady-loves'  colors,  streaming 

Bright  from  their  lances,  a  martial  glow ; 
Potent  incentive  to  knightly  valor. 

Fair  shone  those  colors  mid  darkest  strife, 
Robbing  e'en  Death  of  his  spectral  pallor, 
Flooding  the  victors  with  fuller  life. 


f^'t;.      fplli 


Lady  of  Carmel,  a  brighter  glory 

Gleams  from  the  colors  thy  true  knights  wear, 
Prompts  them  to  prowess  untold  in  story, 

Nerves  them  the  battle's  reverse  to  bear. 
Scapular  Brown,  o'er  my  heart  reposing, 

Badge  during  life  of  my  faith  and  love. 
Dark  when  around  me  death's  gloom  is  closing, 

Light  me  to  Mary,  my  Queen  above. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


THE    MAYTIME 


J 


OYOUS  May  time, 
Nature's  playtime, 
Free  from  faintest  tinge  of  sorrow, 
Mirth  and  pleasure 
Fill  thy  measure, 
Grief  therein  no  place  may  borrow. 


31 


Skies  all  tearless, 

Sunshine  peerless, 
Breezes  crooning  wooing  burdens, 

Green-robed  bowers, 

Birds  and  flowers, — 
These  to  men  thy  welcome  guerdons. 


So,  with  reason, 

Fairest  season, 
Mary's  month  we  call  thee  ever ; 

In  thy  graces 

Finding  traces 
Of  her  beauty,  cloying  never. 


! 


32 


I     )' 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


"TOTA    PULCHRA   ES " 


THOU  art  all  fair,  O  Mother  blest, 
In  thee  is  found  no  stain ; 
Thou'rt  purer  far  than  whitest  crest 
That  decks  the  troubled  main. 

Thy  soul  no  taint  did  ever  bear 

Of  imperfection's  shade ; 
And  Satan  never  counted  there 

The  blots  his  wiles  had  made. 

First  creature  formed  since  Adam's  fall 
Who  shared  not  Adam's  sin. 

Thy  life  was  spent  that  mortals  all 
Celestial  life  might  win. 

Glad  sight  to  Heaven's  highest  court, 
To  view  their  peerless  Queen ; 

And  feeble  man's  most  firm  support 
In  that  fair  maid  is  seen. 

O  thou,  fond  Mother,  guard  me  well, 

I  trust  my  soul  to  thee ; 
Defeat  the  serried  ranks  of  hell, 

Safe  guide  me  o'er  life's  sea. 

And  when,  all  spent  my  mortal  days, 

I  kiss  Death's  fatal  rod, 
Be  "Tota  pulchra  es"  the  phrase 

My  soul  shall  hear  from  God. 


I 


# 


I 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


33 


THE  TREASURE   OF  THE   AUTUMNTIDE 


M 


ONTH  of  the  maple-leaf's  changing  hue,. 
Of  the  hoar-frost    gleaming  where    late 
the  dew 
Shone  bright  'neath  a  firmament  deeply  blue, 

'Neath  a  sky  now  gray  and  sober ; 
Month  of  the  meadows  all  bare  and  brown, 
Of  the  clover  and  aftermath  stricken  down. 
Though  thy  smile  be  sterner  than  August's  frown, 
We  welcome  thee  still,  October ! 


Month  of  our  chaplets  entwined  each  day, 
Rich  wreaths  of  bloom  at  her  feet  to  lay 
Whose  love  o'er  our  hearts  holds  sovereign  sway, 

Whose  largess  exceeds  all  measure, — 
Swiftly  our  welcome  goes  out  to  thee, 
Hail  we  thine  advent  full  joyously. 
Fair  month  of  the  Holy  Rosary, 

The  autumntide's  richest  treasure  ! 

3 


34 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


AN    INVOCATION 


V 


IRCilN  SO  pure  and  bright, 
Robed  in  celestial  light, 
Blest  be  thy  name  in  this  desert  below. 
Guardian  of  trusting  souls. 
Who  e'er  like  thee  condoles 
Hearts  that  are  bursting  with  sorrow  and  woe  ? 

Mother  whom  Jesus  gave. 

Fondly  thine  aid  we  crave ; 
Help  thy  weak  children  obtain  their  reward. 

Queen  of  fair  purity, 

Aid  us  like  thee  to  flee 
Aught  that  displeases  thy  Son  and  thy  Lord. 

Star  of  the  Morning,  fair, 

Shine  through  the  mists  of  care, 
Banish  the  gloom  that  lies  dark  o'er  our  way ; 

Send  us,  oppressed  with  grief, — 

Send  to  our  quick  relief, 
Joyous  and  soothing,  one  luminous  ray. 

Beam  o'er  life's  turbid  sea, 

Guide  those  who  trust  in  thee, 
Lest  in  the  vortex  of  sin  we  go  down. 

Mary,  our  Mother  mild, 

Grant  to  each  loving  child 
Strength  for  the  cross  that  will  merit  the  crown. 


■'I 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


35 


AN    ANGEL'S    PART 


(from  the  latin  ok  Tin;  rkv.  j.  a.  alizeki,  c.  m.) 


AS  WHEN  a  cautious  mother  deems  her  boy 
In  peril  of  a  fall,  she  loudly  chides; 
Yet  when  he  falls,  full  quickly  lifts  him  up, 
Prompt  pardon  grants  unto  the  weeping  child. 
And  fondly  kisses  all  his  tears  away; 
So  let  the  priest  rebuke  each  erring  one, 
Yet  kindly  lift  the  sinner  fallen  low. 
To  fall  but  human  is;   to  rise,  divine: 
Who  stretches  forth  in  love  a  helping  hand 
To  raise  the  prostrate,  doth  an  angel's  part. 
So  wish,  so  order  I,  the  clergy's  Queen, 
That  pastors  ever  greet  with  kindly  yearning, 
Each  truant  member  to  the  fold  returning. 


I 


le  crown. 


3« 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


IN  RANSOM 


WITH  the  plaintive  tones  of  a  mourner's  moans, 
Sigh  the  winds  of  bleak  November, 
And  each  ashen  cloud  is  the  trailing  shroud 

Of  some  loved  one  we  remember; 
Through  the  mist  of  years,  through  a  veil  of  tears, 

We  recall  friends  tender-hearted, 
And  renew  the  woe  felt  long  ago 

For  the  loss  of  our  dear  departed. 


Though  no  sterile  grief  gives  them  blest  relief, 

Though  no  tears  from  their  pains  can  deliver 
Those  friends  of  yore  on  that  farther  shore 

Of  death's  darkly-coursing  river, 
Rich  treasures  we  may  as  their  ransom  pay 

While  life's  sunlight  still  streams  o'er  us: 
Tell  Our  Lady's  beads  for  the  urgent  needs 

Of  those  dear  ones  gone  before  \\s. 


BETWEEN  WHIl.LS 


37 


INADEQUATE 


VIRGIN  and  Mother,  thy  matchless  graces 
Artists  may  Hmn  in  their  dreams  alone; 
Crude  and  unworthy,  their  fairest  faces 

Pictured  on  canvas  or  carved  in  stone. 
Ne'er  but  in  visions  to  saints  accorded 
Glowcth  thy  loveliness  here  below, 
Nor  till  thy.  Son  hath  our  trust  rewarded 
May  we  the  spell  of  thy  beauty  know. 


m^ 


So,  of  the  scope  of  thy  mercy,  Mother, 

Vainly  we  strive  in  weak  words  to  tell; 
Pleading  thy  cause  with  each  tepid  brother. 

Urging  him  fondly  to  serve  thee  well. 
Not  upon  earth  shall  we  gauge  that  ocean, 

Fathomless  deep  of  thy  tender  love, 
Not  till  as  crown  of  our  life's  devotion. 

Share  we  thy  bliss  in  our  Home  above. 


1! 


W.  'IM 


3i 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


f  • 


OUR  LADY'S  MIRACLES 


T 


>HEY  tell  me,  dear  Mother,  that  far   o'er  the 

ocean, 

'Mid  peoples  whose  hearts   are   enamored  of 
thee, 
Are  shrines  where  thy  clients  behold  their  devotion 
Rewarded  by  marvels  right  wondrous  to  see. 

They  tell  how  to  victims  all  worn  by  the  rigor 
Of  ailments  no  power  of  art  can  arrest. 

Thou  givest,  sv/eet  Mother  of  Jesus,  new  vigor : 
Death  staying  his  hand  at  thy  simple  behest. 

By  thousands  the  sufferers  throng  to  thy  altars. 
By   thousands    they    lave    in    thy    waters    at 
Lourdes ; 
Thy  help  they  implore  with  a  faith  that  ne'er  fal- 
ters : 
Thou  hearest  them,  Mother,  and  lo !   they  are 
cured 

Ah,  well  may  I  credit  these  tales  of  thy  glory, 
Though    never    thy   world-renowned    shrines 
bless  my  sight. 

Thou  hast  writ  in  my  heart  a  more  wonderful  story  ; 
Of  death  changed  to  life,  and  of  darkness  to  light. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


39 


TO  OUR  LADY  OF  LIGHT 


WHEN  the  bright  star  of  morning,  the  heavens 
adorning, 
Gleams  lustrous  and  fair  over  valley  and  sea, 
All  its  radiance  and  splendor  but  prompt  me  to 
render 
The  heart's  truest  homage,  sweet  Mother,  to 
thee. 


When  the  Day-god,  uprisen  from  night's  gloomy 

prison,  .  i 

Floods  earth,  sky,  and  water  with  glory  and 

flame, 
All   his   golden    rays   beaming   but   write,  to   my 

seeming. 

The   homage  and    praise   that   is   due   to   thy 
name. 


When  the  Night-queen,  unvt  lling  her  beauty,  goei 


sailin 


g 


My 


Majestic  through  cloud-billows  silvery  white, 
soul  loves  to  wander  above  and  beyond  her, 
And  bask  in  thy  glory,  Our  Lady  of  Light. 


^ 


40 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


STABAT  MATER  SPECIOSA 


STABAT  Mater  speciosa, 
Juxta  foenurn  gaudiosa, 
Dum  jacebat  parvulus. 
Cujus  animam  gaudentem, 
Laetabundam  et  ferventem, 
Pertransivit  jubilus. 


■•^■ 


O  quam  laeta  et  beata 
Fuit  ilia  immaculata 

Mater  unigeniti. 
Quae  gaudebat,  et  ridebat, 
Exsultabat,  cum  videbat 

Natl  partum  inclyti. 

Quis  jam  est  qui  non  gauderet 
Ciiristi  Matrem  si  videret 

In  tanto  solatio? 
Quis  non  posset  collietari 
Christi  Matrem  contemplari 

Ludentem  cum  Filio? 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


41 


STABAT  MATER  SPECIOSA 


(translation) 


STOOD  the  Mother  sweet  and  holy, 
Joyous  by  the  manger  lowly 
Where  she  loving  vigil  kept; 
O'er  her  soul,  its  measure  filling 
With  a  glad,  ecstatic  thrilling, 

Floods  of  purest  rapture  swept. 


Oh,  how  blest,  how  transport-ladea, 
Was  that  fair,  unsullied  Maiden, 

Mother  of  the  Holy  One. 
How  she  joyed,  her  vigil  whiling, 
All  entranced  by  that  beguiling 

\''°sion  of  her  new-born  Son. 


i? 


Who  hath  soul  so  steeped  in  sadness 
A.S  to  share  not  Mary's  gladness. 

Bliss  that  words  can  ne'er  define? 
Who  but  views  with  heart  dilating 
Christ's  sweet  mother  jubilating, 

I^oridling  now  her  Babe  Divine? 


■^ 


42 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


Pro  peccatis  suae  gentis, 
Christum  vidit  cum  jumentis, 

Et  algori  subditum. 
Vidit  suum  dulcem  natum 
Vagientem,  adoratum 

Vili  diversorio. 

Nato  Christo  in  praesepe, 
Coeli  cives  canunt  laete 

Cum  imme  ':o  c^audio. 
Stabat  senex  cui..      uella, 
Non  cum  verbo  nee  loquela, 

Stupescentes  cordibus. 

Eia  Mater,  fons  amoris, 
Me  sentire  vim  ardoris 

Fac  ut  tecum  sentiam. 
Fac  ut  ardeat  co^  meum 
In  amando  Christum  Deum 

Ut  sibi  complaceam. 


Sancta  Mater,  istud  agas: 
Prone  introducas  plagas 

Cordi  fixas  valide. 
Tui  Nati  coelo  lapsi. 
Jam  dignati  foeno  nasci 

Poenas  mecum  divide. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


43 


True,  she  sees  that  Babe  fulfilling 
Man's  redemption,  victim  willing, 

Housed  with  cattle  —  cold  the  while; 
Yet,  above  His  cries  deploring, 
Hears  she  myriad  hosts  adoring 

Jesus  in  that  stable  vile. 

O'er  the  Christ  in  manger  lying, 
Angel-choristers  are  vying 

Worthily  to  hymn  their  joy ; 
While  all  mute  and  heart-astounded, 
Stand  the  Maid  and  Spouse  confounded, 

Worshipping  the  wondrous  Boy. 


Fount  of  love,  O  Mother  fervent, 
Quicken  me,  thy  sluggard  servant, 

Let  me  thine  emotions  share ; 
Make  my  heart  a  furnace  showing 
Naught  but  love  of  Jesus  glowing  . 

Ever  bright  and  brighter  there. 


Mother,  hear  my  sore  beseeching: 
Deign  to  stamp  His  wisdom-teaching 

Love-wounds  fast  upon  my  mind; 
Let  our  smiles  and  tears  be  blended 
O'er  thy  Son,  the  Heaven-descended, 

Manger-born  for  humankind. 


:?' 


44 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


Fac  me  vere  congaudere 
Jesulino  cohaercre, 

Donee  ego  vixero. 
In  me  sistat  ardor  tui, 
Puorino  fac  me  frui, 

Dum  sum  m  exilio. 

Hunc  ardorem  fac  communem, 
Ne  facias  me  immunem 

Ab  hoc  desiderio. 
Virgo  virginum  praeclara, 
Mihi  jam  non  sis  amara: 

Fac  me  parvum  rapere. 

Fac  ut  pulchrum  Fantem  portem,  ' 
Oui  nascendo  vicit  mortem 

Volens  vitam  tradere. 
Fac  me  tecum  satiari 
Nato  tuo  inebriari 

Stans  inter  tripudia. 
Inflammatus  et  accensus, 
Obstupescit  omnis  sensus 

Tali  de  commercio. 

Fac  me  Nato  custodiri, 
Verbo  Dei  pra^muniri, 

Conservari  gratia. 
Quando  corpus  morietur, 
Fac  ut  animae  donetur 

Tui  Nati  gloria* 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


45 


li. 


Of  thy  joy  partaking  ever, 

Till  life's  close  let  nothing  sever 

Me  from  Christ's  communion  blest; 
Strengthen  thou  my  weak  volition, 
Grant  me  of  thy  Babe  fruition 

Whilst  in  exile  still  I  rest. 

With  thine  ardor  set  me  burning, 
Satisfy  this  eager  yearning, 

In  my  heart  thy  Son  enthrone ; 
Virgin,  'mid  all  virgins  peerless, 
Heed  my  prayers,  nor  leave  me  cheerless,- 

Grant  me  Jesus  for  mine  own. 

Let  me  clasp  that  Infant  charming, 
In  whose  birth  was  Death's  disarming. 

By  whose  advent  life  was  won : 
With  such  union  fully  sated, 
All  its  longings  sublimated, 
Let  my  heart,  like  thine  elated, 
Henceforth  be  inebriated 

With  the  beauty  of  thy  Son. 

To  my  prayer  benignly  yielding, 

Grant  me.  Mother,  through  His  shielding, 

Ne'er  to  lose  thy  Jesu's  grace ; 
Grant,  when  ended  life's  brief  story. 
Safe  for  aye  with  thee  in  glory, 

I  may  see  Him  face  to  face. 


46 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


TO  OUR  LADY  IN  NOVEMBER 


PRONE  at  thine  altar,  O  Queen  tender-hearted, 
Fount  of  exhaustless  compassion  and  peace, 
Plead  we  the  cause  of  our  faithful  departed, 

Destitute  captives  whom  thou  canst  release. 
Borne  on  the  wild-sobbing  winds  of  November, 

Plaintive  their  cries  for  sweet  Charity's  doles ; 
Deign  the  j  in  pity  their  woes  to  remember. 
Ransom  them,  Queen  of  the  suffering  souls. 


Shorten,  dear  Mother,  our  loved  ones*  probation. 

Lighten  their  torments,  their  grieving  allay, 
Change  thou  their  woe  into  glad  jubilation. 

Lead  them  from  night  to  the  full  perfect  day. 
Victors  on  earth,  and  yet  exiles  from  Heaven, 

Surely  thy  heart  with  their  anguish  condoles ; 
Grant,  we  implore,  that  their  shackles  be  riven, 

Ransom  them.  Queen  of  the  suffering  souls. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


47 


Mother  alone  undefiled  and  peerless, 
Mother  inviolate,  sinless,  fearless, 
Mother  most  lovable, —  life  is  cheerless ; 

Be  thou  a  comfort  and  stay  for  us : 
Mother  most  wondrous,  to  grandeur  fated, 
Mother  of  Him  who  the  world  created, 
Mother  of  Jesus,  the  Passion-sated, 

Mary,  sweet  Mother,  O  pray  for  us. 


THE  LITANY  OF  OUR  LADY 


i!i 


'  *J 


M' 


OTHER    of    God,    'mongst    all    creatures 
holy, 

Virgin  of  Virgins  most  meek  and  lowly. 
Mother  of  Christ  whom  we  follow  slowly, 

Smooth  thou  the  wearisome  way  for  us ; 
Mother  of  grace  from  the  Godhead  welling, 
Mother  most  pure  and  most  chaste,  excelling 
Fairest  of  angels  in  Heaven  dwelling, 
Mary,  sweet  Mother,  O  pray  for  us. 


M'l 


48 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


Virgin  most  prudent  enshrined  in  story, 
Virgin  revered  since  the  ages  hoary, 
Virgin  renowned,  of  thy  dazzling  glory 

Spare  but  a  glimmering  ray  for  us; 
Virgin  most  potent,  whose  foes  surrender, 
Virgin  most  merciful,  kind,  and  tender, 
Virgin  most  faithful,  our  sure  defender, 

Mary,  sweet  Mother,  O  pray  for  us. 


Mirror  of  Justice  and  all  perfection. 
Seat  of  true  wisdom  by  Christ's  election, 
Cause  of  our  joy  and  of  hell's  dejection. 

Passion's  wild  tumult  allay  for  us ; 
Spirit-like  vessel  with  grace  abounding, 
Vessel  of  honor  to  God  redounding. 
Vase  of  devotion  unique,  astounding, 

Mary,  sweet  Mother,  O  pray  for  us. 


Mystical  rose  with  a  bloom  eternal, 
Tower  of  David  'gainst  foes  infernal, 
Tower  of  ivory,  fair,  supernal. 

Symbol  of  hope  in  the  fray  for  us ; 
Mansion  of  gold  that  delights  our  vision, 
Ark  where  the  law  suffers  no  misprision, 
Gate  of  our  beautiful  Home  elysian, 

Mary,  sweet  Mother,  O  pray  for  us. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


49 


Star  of  the  morning  through  deserts  giiidin<^, 
Health  of  the  weak  and  their  hope  abiding, 
Refuge  of  sinners  in  thee  confiding, 

Still  thy  compassion  display  for  us ; 
Comforter  blest  of  the  sorrow-stricken, 
Help  of  all  Christians  when  perils  thicken, 
Grant    that    our    hearts    with    thy    love    may 
quicken, — 

Mary,  sweet  Mother,  O  pray  for  us. 


I    ■^ 


'I  ».; 


'  '«i 


Queen  of  the  angels,  creation  olden, 
Prior  to  thee  but  to  thee  beholden, 
Queen  of  the  patriarchs,  swift  to  bolden 

Souls  that  solicit  thy  sway  for  us ; 
Queen  of  the  prophets,  the  wisdom-gifted. 
Queen  of  apostles  by  thee  uplifted. 
Queen  of  all  martyrs  with  hearts  woe-rifted, 

Mary,  sweet  Mother,  O  pray  for  us. 


Queen  of  confessors  for  Christ  outspoken. 
Queen  of  fair  virgins  with  vows  unbroken, 
Queen  of  all  saints,  may  our  love  betoken 

Triumph  like  theirs,  not  dismay  for  us ; 
Queen  most  immaculate,  sullied  never, 
Queen  of  the  Rosary  blest  forever. 
Union  with  thee  not  e'en  death  can  sever, 

Mary,  sweet  Mother,  O  pray  for  us. 


50 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


AVE    MARIA 


"  I  HAvi;  known  one  word  hanjij  starlike, 
O'er  a  dreary  waste  of  years, 
And  it  only  shone  the  brighter 

I^ooked  at  through  a  mist  of  tears." 


ETERNAL  Ave,  dwelling  long  unspoke, 
For  age  on  age  within  the  Father's  mind, 
E'er  voice  angelic,  like  caressing  wind, 
Low  whispered  thee  to  Mary;  then  there  broke 
O'er  sin-dark  earth  a  gladsome  dawn  that  woke 
Responsive  thrills  of  joy  in  all  mankind, — 
Of  joy  in  Him  who  came  earth's  wounds  to 
bind, 
And  save  a  race  enthralled  'neath  Satan's  yoke. 


O  starlike  word,  whose  beauty  pure,  serene, 

Hath    blest   the  world    for   twice    a    thousand 
years, 
Undimmed  by  time,  thy  fair  celestial  sheen 

Still  glows  o'er  darkened  minds,  and  glowing, 
cheers, — 
Eternal  word,  thine  echoes  ne'er  shall  cease 
To  soothe  the  sad  and  bring  the  slave  release 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


5« 


"SPES    NOSTRA" 


No  DAY  is  ended  till  its  sun  hath  set, 
Nor    life    completed    till    death's    sombre 
gloom 

Steals    o'er   its   twilight,  and  the  yawning 
tomb 
Engulfs  its  sin  and  sorrow,  toil  and  fret 
Who  most  has  cause  to  mourn  with  vain  regret 
A  guilty  past  and  dread  eternal  doom 
May,  if  he  will,  his  future  course  illume, 
And  reap  the  saints'  rich,  golden  harvest  yet. 

i^or  she,  the  Mother  blest,  whom  Jesus  gave, 
All-potent  advocate  at  Mercy's  throne, 

Lends  willing  ear  when  contrite  sinners  cr'ave 
The  sweet  compassion  she  has  ever  shown 

To  bruised  reeds.     Ah,  who  would  not  be  brave 
When  Heaven's  Queen  doth  make  his  cause 
her  own? 


i') 


m,m* 


'sr 


5* 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


ON   OUR    LADY'S   VISITATION 


'O  JUDAH,  country  of  the  hills,  one  day- 
There  came  a  dust-stained  maid  from  Gali- 
lee; 
Her  soul  intent  on  wondrous  things  to  be, 
No  man  had  she  saluted  by  the  way, 
No  city  entered,  made  no  brief  delay; 

But,  moved  by  sweet  and  eager  charity. 
Sought  her  whose  old-age  son,  from  sin  made 
free. 
E'en  from  his  mother's  womb  did  homage  pay. 


ii 


Ah,  Virgin  fair,  thy  visitation  blest 

Extend  to  us,  grown  old  in  sin  and  woe. 

Perchance    /hen  next  we  greet  thee  as  our  guest, 
Our  sterile  hearts,  grace-touched,  may  fruitful 
grow; 

And,  tuned  to  thine  in  full  and  sweet  accord, 

Like  thine,  our  souls  may  "magnify  the  Lord," 


I 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


53 


1 


A  THOUGHT   ON   THE    PRESENTATION 


I 


WHAT  Strange  new  fragrance  this  that  scents 
the  air 

Of  Sion's  temple  with  aroma  sweet? 

What  gracious  marvel  do  the  angels  greet, 
As,  poised  on  silver  vvin^^s,  they  cluster  there? 
Earth's  choicest  blossom,  Sharon's  Rose  all-fair. 

To-day  is  laid  at  great  Jehovah's  feet. 

A  peerless  flower  with  beauty's  grace  replete, 
Its  bloom,  oblation;    and  its  odor,  p-ayer. 

A  life,  the  type  and  m.odel  of  our  own, 

Who  heeds  its  lesson  may  its  guerdon  claim ; 

The  Mystic  Rose  to  full  perfection  grown, 
Herself  the  Temple  of  the  Word  became. 

Hast  given  all  to  God?     It  hath  sufficed  ; 

Thy  heart  a  temple  is,  wherein  dwells  Christ 


(«ii 


^fl^ 


54 


^ 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


THE  ROSE-GARDEN 


IN  OLDEN  days,  as  German  legends  tell, 
Upon  the  castled  banks  of  storied  Rhine, 
There  bloomed  a  garden  fair,  a  floral  shrine 
Wherein  the  Princess  Criemhilde  loved  to  dwell ; 
All  knights  avowed  her  beauty's  potent  spell. 

And    rapture    thrilled    his   pulse    like    bodied 

wine, 
The    victor    round    whose    brows    her    hands 
would  twine 
A  ro^^e- wreath  —  token  that  he  jousted  well. 

A  fairer  garden  blooms  for  us  to-day, 

A  fairer  Queen  of  Beauty  dwelleth  there; 

And  oft  as  we  our  pleading  Ar^s  say. 

Those  mystic  roses  form  a  wreath  of  prayer, — 

A  love-twined  wreath  we  humbly  offer  thee, 

Sweet  Lady  of  the  Holy  Rosary. 


BETilEEN  WHILES 


%% 


THE  FIRST  WITNESS 


I     ■: 


WHAT  visit  paid  He  first,  that  glowing  morn. 
When,  all   refulgent,  burst  He   from   the 
tomb 
And    flashed    His    glory    through    the    sullen 
gloom 
Which,  pall-like,  hung  o'er  earth  and  men  forlorn? 
What  dearest  one  did  prescient  raptures  warn 
That  He  was  near  whose  features,  all  abloom 
With   life   supernal,  mocked   Do-th's  boasted 
doom 
And  told  a  tale  of  victory  new-born? 


■ji 


Not  she  whose  penitential  tears  sufficed 
To  wash  the  scarlet  of  her  sins  awa)  , 

The  second,  she,  to  view  the  Risen  Christ 

When  morning  broke,  that  primal  Easter  day 

Ere  yet  'twas  dawn,  the  Man-God  first  had  pressed 

His  Mother  Mary  to  His  loving  breast. 


'»:»• 


56 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


.    OUR  LADY'S  MONTH 


^TOT  for  thy  grace  alone,  fair  Month,  of  old 
^      Belauded  in  each  blithesome  singer's  lay. 
Not  for  the  jocund  buds  that  'neath  thy  sway 
Their  tiny  petals  stir,  then  swift  unfold 
Their  wealth  of  beauty,  to  bedeck  the  mold 

And  woo   the  wanton  winds  that  round  them 

play,— 
Not  for  ihy  sunny  mien  or  wind-soni^s  gay 
We  bid  thee  hail  and  welcome  manifold. 

But  chiefly  that  thou  art  Our  Lady's  time, 

Her  gala  month  of  homage,  praise,  and  prayer, 

When  myriad  soul-harps  sing  in  every  clime 

Fond  hymns  of  love  to  Heaven's  Queen  all- 
fair, 

Though  May-day's  rites  of  yore  lie  buried  deep. 

Three  decades  now  of  Mary's  days  we  keep. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


57 


THE  IMMACULATE 


Whene'er  the  poet's  soul  cloth  wander  wide 
O'er  all  the  boundless  universe  of  dreams, 
Upon  his  vision  clear  at  times  there  gleams 
A  peerless  form  that,  fleeting,  will  not  bide, 
A  beauteous  face,  lost  even  as  descried  — 

A  form  and  face  would  serve  as  fitting  themes 
For  pen  inspired  or  brush  dipped  in  the  beams 
Of  gold  wherewith  the  summer  clouds  are  dyed. 

Yet  can  no  poet  sing,  no  artist  paint 

The  grace  ideal  of  his  vision  bright, 
Or  show,  save  in  a  copy  blurred  and  faint, 

The  dreamland  Queen  who  thus  has  blest  his 
sight: 
'Tis  She,  God's  masterpiece  of  beauty  rare, 
The   Spouse   to  whom   He  said:     **Thou   art  all 
f:.Ir." 


I 


'!i 


I;    :i 


I    i<i  , 


tm 


iSL 


\ 


t 


58 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


IN  MID-ATLANTIC 


T 


TS  midnight,  and  across  the  lowering  sky 
Black  cloud-battalions,  tempest-driven,  sweep, 
The  storm-king  wreaks  his  fury  on  the  deep. 
The  huge  waves  toss  their  foamy  crests  on  high. 
Gigantic  monsters  that  with  hurtling  cry 

Rush  fiercely  down  the  liquid  cavern-steep ; 
While  swift  the  trembling  ship  with  plunge  and 
leap,  ^    . 

Evades  the  peril  she  may  not  defy. 


F'irm-braced  I  stand  upon  the  reeling  deck. 

By  turns  a  prey  to  dread  and  strange  delight ; 

Though  raging  billows  threaten  speedy  wreck. 
The  soul  acclaims  their  grandeur,  power,  and 
might: 

Yet,  thus  acclaiming,  turns  in  prayer  to  thee, 

Sweet  Mary,  Mother  mine,  Star  of  the  Sea. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


59 


I'' 


All  otherwise  we  hoard  who  day  by  day 

Tell  o'er  our  blessed  beads,  and  still  entreat 
Our  Mother's  prayers  both  now  and  when  Death's 
sway 
O'er  life  shall  rule  supreme.     "Hail  Marys" 
sweet 
We  garner  up,  each  hour  more  and  more, 
And  find  our  treasure  on  the  eternal  shore. 


.1' 


in 


A  TREASURE  GAINED 


THE  miser  joys  to  count  his  treasures  o'er, 
Nor  deems  that  earth  can  purer  bliss  afford 
Than  still  to  gloat  upon  his  hidden  hoard. 
And  day  by  day  increase  his  garnered  store 
Of  sterile  wealth.     At  length  unto  his  door 

The  summons  comes  that  may  not  be  ignored. 
What  boots  him  now  the  gold  thro'  life  adored  ? 
His  treasure's  lost  to  him  forevermore. 


a 


:lv 


6o 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


ASSUMPTA  EST 


THE  weary  exile  since  her  Jesus  died  — 
Slow-dragging   years    of    yearning-haunted 

peace — 
Is  spent  at  last,  and  Mary's  glad  release 
From   sin-dark   earth  hath  come.     Life's  ebbing 

tide 
Drains  out;   and,  fleshly  raiment  cast  aside. 
The  fairest  soul  created  wins  surcease 
Of  hope  deferred,  the  while  His  joys  increase 
Whose  choirs  exult  through  all  the  azure  wide. 


Her  comely  body's  fate?    No  slow  decay 
Its  loveliness  supreme  shall  soil  or  mar ; 

No  dissolution  claims  as  lawful  prey 

That  temple  perfect,  free  from  blot  or  scar. 

Corruption  reigns  but  where  foul  sin  was  guest, — 

All  sinless  She,  and  so,  assiimpta  est. 


m 


'iim 


ig 


j' ||d« 

m 

;  fp^^l 

<iM 

rl 

1 

■  : 

1 

OTHER   DEVOTIONAL  VERSES 


i 


(61) 


^ 


m 


A  REFUGE  BLEST 


0   ' 

iii      I 


KNOW  ye  the   spot  where   the   passions   cease 
raging, 
Where  anger  decreases  and  enmity  dies, 
Where  pride  sees  its  baseness,  where  nature  quits 
waging  ; 

Its  warfare  with  grace,  and  the  spirit  grows  wise  ? 
Know  ye  the  nook  where  all  burdens  grow  lighter. 

All  trials  less  grievous,  all  anguish  less  keen, 
Where  the  dark  shadows  lift  and  hope's  sunshine 
grows  brighter. 
While  Peace  stills  the  tumult  of  tempests  ter- 
rene? 


I     if 


! 


Wouldst  find  it?     Tis  near:    see  that  deathless 
light  burning 
Before  the  veiled  cell  where  thy  Savior  for  aye 
All  silently  waits  with  an  infinite  yearning 

Thy  sorrow  to  comfort,  thy  woe  to  allay. 
No  friend  like  to  Him  can  the  whole  wide  world 
proffer, 
No  spot  with  such  benisons  dowered,  I  ween, 
As  there  at  His  feet,  if  thou  only  wilt  offer 

Him  sovereign  sway  o'er  thy  spirit's  demesne. 

(63) 


64 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


AN  AUTUMN  ASPIRATION 


ff?' 


ARE  the  autumn  winds  mournfully  sighing 
With  regret  for  the  summer  time  fled? 
Do  they  grieve  for  the  maple-leaves  dying, 

Or  lament  the  sweet  jessamines  dead? 
Ah,  no ;   but  each  breeze  tender-hearted 

Chants  a  prayer  for  our  loved  ones'  release : 
**  May  the  souls  of  the  faithful  departed 

Through  the  mercy  of  God  rest  in  peace !  " 

Of  the  merciful  winds  of  November 

May  our  hearts  learn  the  touching  refrain : 
'Tis  the  Month  of  the  Dead  —  ah,  remember, 

Our  petitions  will  lessen  their  pain. 
Let  our  prayers  like  blest  arrows  be  darted 

Till  we  win,  for  their  sorrows,  surcease, — 
Till  the  souls  of  the  faithful  departed 

Through  the  mercy  of  God  rest  in  peace. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


65 


PEACE 


(ego  te  absolvo) 


YES,  go  in  peace,  poor  mourner,  go; 
Thy  crimes  are  all  forgiven, 
The  chains  that  bound  thee  fast  to  woe, 
God's  minister  has  riven. 

Thy  soul  was  black,  and  foul,  and  clad 

With  the  leprosy  of  sinning, 
And  Heaven  wept,  and  Hell  grew  glad, 

For  Hell  in  the  strife  was  winning. 

But  thou  heardst  the  Father's  loving  call : 

"  Go,  seek  the  waters  saving." 
Repeutri.t  tears  have  washed  out  all, 

The  leper  comes  clean  from  the  laving. 

Yes,  go  in  peace,  poor  contrite  heart, 
God's  love  thy  soul  indwelling ; 

But  henceforth  choose  the  better  part, 
Obedient,  not  rebelling. 

Go  forth  in  peace,  and  learn  at  length 
What  this  last  fall  hath  taught  thee  — 

In  God  alone  lies  all  thy  strength. 

Pride  leads  —  where  it  hath  brought  thee. 


1   '  ^ 


Ir 


66 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


V-* 


I, 


Rerjember  that  to  conquer  sin, 

The  warrior  must  be  humble ; 
Humility  shall  stand  and  win 

Where  pride  to  dust  will  crumble. 

Go  forth  to  battle  for  thy  crown, 
To  meet  thy  foes  and  fight  them; 

But  know,  to  strike  thy  foemen  down, 

God's  strength,  not  thine,  must  smite  them. 

Yet  go  in  peace,  in  Him  confide. 
He'll  make  thy  combat  glorious; 

For  who  has  God  upon  his  side, 
Forever  proves  victorious. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


67 


ECHOES  IN  AUTUMNTIDE 


OFT  as  the  desolate  winds  of  November 
Wail  out  their  dirge  o'er  the  age-stricken 
year, 
Echoes  of  voices  I  loved  and  remember, 

Plaintively  resonant,  strike  on  my  ear. 
Pleading,  they  come  from  beyond  the  dark  river, 

Cries  wherein  patience  with  agony  blends ; 
Moaning,  the  breezes  their  message  deliver: 
"  Pity,  have  pity,  at  least  you,  my  friends !  " 


'% 


Loved  ones,  who  still  in  God's  prison-house  lan- 
guish. 

Mine  the  sweet  duty  your  ransom  to  pay, — 
Mine,  through  Christ's  merits,  to  lessen  your  an- 
guish. 

Washing  all  stains  of  your  trespass  away. 
Soon  shall  I,  too,  in  that  place  of  probation, 

Sigh  for  the  Home  where  all  suffering  ends ; 
Then,  in  your  turn,  hear  my  soul's  lamentation : 

**  Pity,  have  pity,  at  least  you,  my  friends !  " 


11 


68 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


EXILES 


*OlLSOME  is  our  journey  through  this  stranger- 
land  so  dreary, 
Countless  o'er  our  pathway  still  the  mountain- 
peaks  arise; 
Father,  dear,  have   mercy,  for   our   feet  are  very 
weary, 
Call  thine  exiled  children  to  their  home  be- 
yond the  skies. 

Hungry  is  our  vision   for  that  land  wherein  our 
Mother 
Beams  her  loving  glances  on  her  children  safe 
at  rest, 
Hungry  for  the  sight  of  Him,  our  gracious  Elder 
Brother, 
Longing  to  repose  at  length  our  heads  upon 
His  breast. 

Sick  at  heart,  and  weary  of  a  world  whose  change- 
less story 
Tells  of  souls  redeemed  by  Christ  that  Pride 
and  Mammon  win, 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


69 


Weary  of  the  worldlings  who  forget  the  Father's 
glory, 
Marching  o'er  life's  highway  'neath  the  ban- 
ners foul  of  sin. 


I;' 


Daily,  on  our  pilgrimage,  a  thousand  foes  assail  us. 
Urging  us  to  wander  from  the  one  appointed 
road  ; 
Fearful  are  we,  Father,  lest  our  courage  some  day 
fail  us. 
Lest  with  these,  thine  enemies,  we  take  up  our 
abode. 


■ :  i- 


1  . .  !i: 

i 


Tired,  too,  so  tired  of  the  endless  combat  waging 
Tween  the  spirit's  promptings  and  the  crav- 
ings base  of  sense, 
Mindful  of  the  passions  still  so  often  fiercely  rag- 
ing,— 
Eager  to  escape  the  risk  of  possible  offense. 

Long  our  eyes  have  thirsted  for  the  fair  supernal 
mountains. 
Long  our  ears  have  waited  the  ecstatic  bursts 
of  song. 
Long  our  hearts   have   panted   for  a  draft  from 
Love's  pure  fountains  — 
Oh,  we  pine  to  dwell  with  them,  that  bright 
celestial  throng. 


m/M 


70 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


Courage,  weary  exiles;  though  as  yet  without  the 
portal 
Of  the  Father's  City,  all  disconsolate  ye  roam, 
Soon  the  gates  will  open,  and  the  joys  of  life  im- 
mortal 
Burst    upon    your  vision    in    that    longed-for, 
happy  Home, 


THE  FOURTH  STATION 


g     ^OMES   at  length   the   sad   procession,  moving 

V.^     onward  to  the  hill, 

Comes  the  weary  Man  of  Sorrows,  bowed  beneath 

earth's  weight  of  ill : 
Burden  sore  the  Cross  He  carries  on  His  shoulders 

drooping  low, 
Sorer  far  the  sin  it  symbols  to  His  soul  oppressed 

with  woe. 

Few  of  all  who  throng  about  Him  in  that  mocking 

train  there  be 
Moved  to  tender  Him  compassion,  few  to  proffer 

sympathy ; 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


71 


Yet  noi  friendless  reels  He  onward.     See  !    where 

turns  the  lengthy  street, 
Mary,  stricken  dumb  with  anguish,  waits  her  Son, 

her  God,  to  meet. 


Who  shall  sound  her  sorrow's  ocean,  who  conceive 
her  awful  grief 

When  His  pain-shot  eyes  uplifted  hold  hers  for  a 
moment  brief? 

Jesu's  Mother  views  His  torments,  notes  each  sin- 
gle pang  and  Ihroe  — 

Notes,  aye,  feels  them :  all  His  passion  doth  her 
spirit  undergo. 

Son  all  perfect !  Spotless  Mother  !  By  the  anguish 
of  that  hour. 

Help  me  shun  whatever  may  grieve  you,  arm  my 
soul 'gainst  Satan's  power; 

Grave  the  picture  of  Your  meeting  deep  my  mem- 
ory within, 

That  the  sight  may  fill  my  being  with  a  steadfast 
hate  of  sin. 


».-< 


..  '>  -i 


w 


i 


:    : 


i  ■ 


" 


72 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


A  THOUGHT   FOR    CHRISTMAS 


''T'^'HE  shepherds  who  watched  on  the  starlit  slopes, 
1       That  night  in  the  long  ago, 
Were  but  simple  men,  of  whose  fears  or  hopes 

The  world  cared  not  to  know; 
But  only  the  shepherds  heard  the  song 

That  rolled  through  the  f^rple  skies, 
And  only  the  lowly  may  join  the  throng 

'Round  the  Crib  where  the  Man-God  lies. 


LIFE'S   PASSION 


A 


LL    lives    have    their    Passion-tide,    tardy  or 

fleeting, 

Up  some  Calvary's  steep  must  we  each  stagger 
on; 
Thrice    blest  who  the  while   lists   to   Faith,  still 
repeating : 
"Beyond   thy  Good   Friday  lies  Easter's   fair 
dawn." 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


73 


''SACERDOS  ALTER  CHRISTUS" 


1  y 
W 


SACERDOS  ALTER  Christus.    Thought  Sublime, 
That  leads  to  heights  no  human  thought  may 
climb, — 
A  thought  to  treasure  in  thy  inmost  heart, 
"Another  Christ,"  anointed  priest,  thou  art. 
In  rank  above  all  men,  so  near  divine. 
Archangels  claim  a  lower  throne  than  thine. 
In  power,  greater  than  the  king  who  sways 
Earth's  greatest  realms ;  for  THEE  e'en  God  obeys. 
He  quits  high  Heaven's  court  at  thy  command. 
Descending  swift  unto  thine  out-stretched  hand. 
A  Christ  in  rank  and  power  —  friend,  'tis  meet 
That  thou  the  fair  resemblance  shouldst  complete. 
Be  thine  His  patient  pity,  love,  and  zeal ; 
Be  thine  the  wounds  of  aching  hearts  to  heal ; 
Be  thine  to  follow  whither  lost  sheep  roam ; 
And  bear  them  kindly  on  thy  shoulders  home. 
Be  thine  the  Master's  Cross  with  love  to  bear, 
And  thine  in  endless  life  His  Crown  to  wear. 


74 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


AN  ENVIED  LOT 


WHO  with  envy  hath  not  murmured 
Simon  of  Cyrcne's  name? 
Who  but  in  his  heart  hath  whispered, 
*'  Would  my  office  were  the  same." 
What  were  trials,  woes,  or  anguish, 

What  were  any  pain  or  loss, 
Could  we  help,  as  did  blest  Simon, 
Christ  our  Lord  to  bear  His  Cross? 


May  we  not  thus  aid  our  Savior, 

Help  Him  on  His  doleful  way? 
Surely  yes  ;   and  not  once  only 

But  with  each  recurring  day. 
Simon's  lot  one  need  not  envy 

Unto  whom  this  truth  is  known : 
That  the  Cross  of  Christ  we  carry 

When  for  Him  we  bear  our  own. 


'  \ 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


75 


.  WHEN  EVA  DIED 


■\'\ 


WHEN    Eva     died,    our    hearts    in    anguish 
shrouded 
Wailed  out  the  burden  of  their  bitter  woe, 
Life's    skies,    once    fair,    all    sombre    grew    and 
clouded, 
And  Joy's  bright  fountain  ceased  its  sparkling 
flow. 
"  God's   will   be   done ! "    we    sobbed   in    accents 
broken 
Above  her  lifeless  form,  Death's  maiden  bride ; 
And  God  alone  knew  all  the  rue  unspoken 

That  pierced  our  souls  the  day  when  Eva  died. 

When  Eva  died,  rich  gleams  of  sunshine  faded 

From    out   the    brightness    of  our   household 
cheer, 
And  Grief's  pale  form  our  happy  home  invaded 

To  temper  all  our  joys  for  many  a  year. 
And  yet  God's  will  be  done !   Our  tender  flower. 

Whose  budding  grace  we  watched  with  loving 
pride, 
Was  but  transplanted  to  a  fairer  bower, — 

A  lily  bloomed  in  Heaven  when  Eva  died. 


^tr 


76 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


'    1 


"VENI,  SEQUERE  ME" 


(to  a   religious,    on    his   profession,   FEBRUARY  2,   1878) 


PRAISE  to  the  wisdom,  true  happiness  prizing, 
That  seeks  in  its  labors  eternal  reward ! 
Hail  to  the  hero,  life's  pleasures  despising, 

Who  fears  not  to  follow  the  steps  of  his  Lord  ! 


Ages  have  flown  since  the  counsel  was  given 

To  him  who  in  happiness  sought  the  true  way : 

"Wouldst  thou  ensure  thy  enjoyment  of  Heaven, 
Take  up  thy  cross,  Veni,  sequcre  me!' 

Oft  since  thy  boyhood,  dear  friend,  now  so  lowly, 
While  lost  in  thy  musings  or  kneeling  to  pray. 

Flooded  o'er  thee  the  light  of  the  Spirit  most  holy. 
Who  spoke  to  thy  heart:    Vcni^  scquere  me. 


Softly  it  called  thee,  that  voice  low  and  tender, 
The  world   and   its    passions   in   prudence  to 
flee. 
Lest  wild  winds  and  angry  thy  frail  bark  might 
render 
A  rudderless  wreck  on  a  pitiless  sea. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


77 


Nobly  responding  to  God's  invitation, 

Thou  choosest  as  gain  what  the  worldly  call 
loss; 
Nature  o'crpowering,  in  glad  jubilation 

Thou  cling'st  with  fond  hope  to  the  wood  of 
the  Cross. 


i' 


li 


Blest  be  thy^  choice  during  time,  swiftly  fleeting, 
Thrice  happy  thy  lot  on  the  last  awful  day ; 

For  sweet  beyond  measure  is  Christ's  gentle  greet- 
ing 
To  those  who  have  answered  His  Scquerc  me. 


STRIFL,  OR  REST? 


ii-' 


IN  THE  long  ago  when  I  knelt  to  pray, 
These  words  to  my  lips  would  come  alway: 
"  O  Father  of  might,  grant  me  strength  to  fight, 

And  to  conquer  all  foes  that  assail  me." 
But  now  from  my  heart  comes  another  prayer — 
Twas  taught  me  by  sorrow  and  sin  and  care : 
"O  Father  of  peace,  let  mine  exile  cease, 
Call  me  home  ere  my  courage  fail  me." 


78 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


Tis  not  that  with  merit  my  days  arc  filled  — 

Ah !    mc,  at   the   thought   how   my    heart    grows 

chilled:  < 

Thy  talents  misused,  thy  graces  abused, 

Show  my  past  to  be  barren  and  dreary ; 
And  I  fain  would  atone  for  each  misspent  year, 
And  I  strive  and  fail,  and,  oppressed  with  fear, 
"O  Father,"  I  cry,  "let  me  speedily  die. 

For  of  striving  and  failing  Fm  weary." 


Yet  why  should  I  falter,  why  doubc  and  repine? 
"My    grace   doth    suffice."      Is   the   promise   not 

thine? 
To  cower  were  base  with  the  foe  face  to  face ; 

No;  to  vanquish  them  still  Fll  endeavor. 
The  future  shall  ransom  the  years  that  are  gone ; 
Though  I  fall,  I  shall  rise,  and  fight  valiantly  on : 
O  Father  and  Lord,  guide  Thou  my  sword, 

Grant  me  victory  now  and  forever ! 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


79 


PURITY  OF  INTENTION 


WHEN  the  sunbeams  kiss  the  snowdrifts, 
Myriad  diamcuids  sparkle  bright, 
Where,  while  cloud-banks  hid  the  day-god, 
Naught  was  seen  but  changeless  white : 
So  when  love  of  God  doth  guide  us 

'  Through  life's  tedious,  dull  routine, 
Slightest  acts  are  changed  to  jewels 
Sparkling  with  celestial  sheen. 


K 


**MISEREMINI  MEI" 


J!' 


"M 


ISEREMINI  MEI !  "     Whence  comes  this  wail 
That  is  freighting  the  night-wind's  wings? 
"  Have  pity,  have  pity  !  "     It  thrills  the  soul 

Like  no  song  that  the  world  e'er  sings. 
And  the  heart  throbs  quick  and  the  pulse  beats 
fast,  • 

While  we  list  to  its  mournful  strain ; 
For  the  tone  of  the  voice  is  a  plaindve  tone, 
Full  of  sorrow  and  trouble  and  pain. 


'It  i 


«fp 


II 


80 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


•*  Miseremini  meif  "     The  wail  floats  up 

From  an  unseen  world  below, 
Where  departed  saints  their  deliverance  wait 

In  a  dungeon  of  silent  woe ; 
From  a  wide,  wide  ocean  of  billowy  flame, 

Where  endurance  no  merit  can  win, — 
God's  crucible  fierce  where  the  gold  of  love 

Is  cleansed  from  the  dross  of  sin. 

**  Miseremini  nici!  "     Hark  !   listen  well. 

Hear  ye  not  some  familiar  voice 
That  in  years  agone  hath  oft  blended  with  thine, 

And  with  thine  would  weep  or  rejoice  ? 
By  the  love  he  once  bore  thee  in  days  of  yore. 

Let  thy  friend  call  not  vainly  on  thee ; 
In  thy  charity's  might,  grant  him  endless  delight, 

Strike  off  all  his  chains,  set  him  free. 


*^  Miscroniiii  uici!  " 


Ah,  Christian  sou), 

One  day  from  that  joyless  clime, 
Thy  wail  shall  float  back  'cross  the  gulf  of  death 

To  thy  friends  on  the  shores  of  time. 
Be  generous  now  to  those  holy  souls, 

And  then  shait  thou  reap  thy  reward ; 
For  the  measure  of  mercy  thou  dealest  to  them 

Will  be  dealt  unto  thee  by  thy  Lord. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


8l 


THE  FIRST  CHRISTMAS 


e, 


WINTRY  Night  has  spread  her  mantle 
O'er  a  fair  Judean  towi, 
On  deserted  streets  and  highways 

Moon  and  stars  look  calmly  down. 
Wealthy  nobles,  poor  plebeians, 

Merry  youths  and  gr?ndsires  old, — 
All  repose  in  peaceful  slumber, 
Sheltered  from  the  bitter  cold. 


t.* 


:ht, 


All,  except  some  lowly  shepherds, 

Men  of  simple  moods  and  wills. 
Who,  inured  to  cold  and  hardships, 

Watch  their  flocks  upon  the  hills. 
Only  these,  and  in  a  stable. 

Bleak  and  lonely,  rude  and  bare, 
Two  expectant,  humble  strangers, 

Both  absorbed  in  silent  prayer. 


Midnight  steals  upon  the  mountain, 
Lo,  the  shepherds  start  with  fear. 

What  betides  this  radiant  vision? 
What,  this  song  divine  they  hear? 


82 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


Yes ;   these  ;;///5/  be  forms  angelic 
Winging  downward  irom  the  sky, 

And  a  thousand  hosts  are  singing : 
''  Glory  be  to  God  on  high." 


Midnight  lingers  o'er  the  stable  — 

Spouse  mature  and  maiden  mild 
Gaze  with  speechless  admiration 

On  a  lowly,  new-born  Child. 
Myriad  spirits  hover  round  them, 

Eager  all  that  Babe  to  scan ; 
For  'tis  He  whom  God  has  promised, 

Christ  the  Savior  born  to  man. 


Sing,  ye  Stars,  a  song  of  gladness; 

Echo,  Earth,  the  blest  refrain; 
Banish,  fallen  man,  thy  sadness. 

Let  each  heart  repeat  the  strain. 
"Alleluia!     Alleluia! 

Ever  joyous  be  this  morn. 
God  hath  sent  our  blest  Redeemer, 

Christ  is  here  —  Our  Savior's  born  !  " 


1  ( 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


83 


A  TRUSTY  PILOT 


O^XE  when  furious  blasts  were  lashing  ocean 
waves  to  mighty  strife, 
And   the  billows,  wildly  raging,  seemed  like  de- 
mons cursed  with  life, 
Stood  I  on  a  lofty  headland  where  was  dashed  the 

blinding  spray. 
Watching  how  a  gallant  vessel  through  the  tem- 
pest fought  her  way. 

Tossed  about  like  some  frail  plaything  in  the  hand 

of  sportive  child. 
Now,   far    down    'neath    towering    mountains,  hid 

from  sight  by  surges  wild  ; 
Now,    flung    up    by    angry    billows,   far    aloft   on 

crested  wave, — 
Ruin  hovers  all  around   her:    surely  naught  that 

ship  can  save. 


But  through  all  that  shrieking  tempest  one  brave 

seaman  held  his  post, 
Guiding  well  the  troubled  helm,  shunning  still  the 

rocky  coast : 


34 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


Safely  through  the  storm  he  bore  her,  till  when 

waves  were  lulled  to  sleep, 
Weaker  hands  than  his  could  guide  her  o'er  the 

bosom  of  the  deep. 

Thus  it  is  on  life's  broad  ocean,  when  Tempta- 
tion's fierce  winds  rise, 

When,  before  the  waves  of  passion,  swift  our  bark 
at  random  flies : 

It  behooves  ur>  watch  our  helm,  place  a  trusty  pilot 
there, — 

Safe  to  come  to  smoother  waters,  if  the  pilot's 
name  be  Prayer. 


ON  A  FEAST-DAY 


T 


WAS  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  years  ago,  in 

a  land  that  is  far  away, 
That  two  pilgrims  threaded  the  thronging  crowds 

of  a  city's  streets  one  day, — 
A  Mother  fairer  with  beauty  rarer  than  earth  had 

hitherto  seen ; 
And  close  by  her  side,  her  protector  and  guide,  of 

placid  and  gentle  mien. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


85 


To  the  holy  Temple  they  came  at  length,  and  en- 
tering sought  the  priest ; 

No  wealth  was  theirs,  so  the  offering  made  for  the 
Babe  was  of  the  least : 

And  yet  had  Jerusalem's  Temple  grand  ne'er  wit- 
nessed so  glorious  a  sight 

As  Our  Lady  presenting  the  Father  with  her  Son, 
the  world's  true  light. 

Still  keep  we  this  Presentation  of  Our  Lord  as  the 

years  roll  on, 
A. id  the  Light  of  the  world  is  shining  still  as  of 

old  in  Judea  it  shone; 
With  vision  clearer  as  we  draw  nearer  and  follow 

its  thrice-blest  ray, 
Life's  quicksands  dread  we  securely  tread,  for  our 

Light  is  the  Truth  and  the  Way. 


m 
rds 
iad 

of 


There's  a  presentation  for  each  of  us  who  love  our 

Mother  well, — 
A  feast  that  the  future  holds  in  store,  though  its 

date  no  man  can  tell ; 
Our  souls  will  o'erflow  on  that  gladsome  day  with 

a  joy  to  the  world  unknown, 
Wlien  the  Virgin  Queen  presents  us  at  the  foot  of 

the  great  White  Throne. 


|i|fj 


im 


■ 


86 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


PREMONITIONS 


It  •:■!( 


Ill 


14  , 


ftt 


I  DREAMT  last  night — nay,  was  it  only  dreaming, 
Or  true  prevision  of  a  coming  day?  — 
That  through  my  chamber  fitful  lights  were  gleam- 
ing, 
The  while  upon  my  couch  I,  dying,  lay. 

The  solemn  rites  were  o'er ;   the  sacred  Unction 
God's  priest  had  ministered,  and  grave  and  low 

His  voice  essayed  to  rouse  me  to  compunction 
Ere  yet  life's  feeble  tide  should  cease  to  flow. 

Ah,  me  !   He  little  knew  how  wholly  needless 

His  exhortation  to  repent  of  sin; 
My  looks  belied  me  if  they  showed  me  heedless, 

Or  hid  the  wild  remorse  that  raged  within. 


Another  voice  than  his.  broke  on  my  hearing, 

And  all  earth's   sights  and  sounds  grew  dim 
and  faint : 
With  awesome  dread  I  saw  the  Christ  appearing. 
And,  quaking,  heard  His  Sacred  Heart's  com- 
plaint; — 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


87 


"For  thee  I  underwent  My  cruel  passion, 
For  thy  redemption  died  upon  the  Cross, 

Used  every  means  that  Love  divine  could  fashion 
To  win   thy  soul.      Hast  compassed   gain   or 
loss? 


"  Review  thy  vanished  past  and  con  its  story ; 

Judge  thou  thyself  its  purport  and  its  worth: 
How  few  thy  years  devoted  to  My  glory, 

How  many  squandered  on  the  things  of  earth  ! 

**  Recall  thy  sins  innumerous  and  ponder 

How  each  a  dagger  was  to  pierce  My  Heart; 

Afar  from  Me  in  life  thou  loved'st  to  wander, — 
'Twere  meet  that  now  from  thee  I  stand  apart." 

He  ceased ;   and  demons,  in  the  distance  throng- 
ing, 
With  fiendish  triumph  jeered  and  mocked  the 
prayer 
I  murmured  still,  lest  Hope's  supremest  longing 
Should  turn  for  aye  to  infinite  despair. 

"ttelp,  Mary,  help!"  I  cried;  and  scarce  had 
spoken 

When  near  the  Savior  stood  His  Mother  blest; 
His  visage  softened  —  surely  'twas  a  token 

Christ  still  would  listen  to  her  least  behest. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


« 


■i  ■'  ■ 


^'  .1,1, 


/ 


Then,  stretching  forth  her  potent  hands  above  me, 

As  if  to  shield  me  by  her  tender  care, 
"He  loved  me,  Son,"  she  said,  '*  nay,  won  to  love  me: 

Full  many  others:   judge  him  not,  but  spare." 

Perchance  'twas  but  a  dream,  a  scene  ideal 
By  Fancy  painted  in  her  hours  of  play; 

But  on  my  wakened  soul  its  impress  real 
Is  stamped,  a  lesson  to  endure  for  aye. 

Dear  Lord,  henceforth  Thy  will  shall  be  my  pleasure, 
Thy  Sacred  Heart  my  sins  shall  grieve  no  more ; 

And  thou,  sweet  Mother,  wilt  in  fullest  measure 
My  grateful  love  receive  as  ne'er  before. 


A  SNOWFALL  ON  ALL  SOULS' 


T 


WAS  the  day  of  the  Dead  and  the  earth  shared 

their  sorrow. 
The  brown  fields  were  sodden,  all  cheerless  the 

skies. 
And  a  new  tone  of  grief  did  the  autumn  winds 

borrow. 
In  mournful  accord  with  the  souls'  plaintive 

cries. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


89 


<l!  « 


'Twas  the  Feast  of  the  Dead,  and  ahght  with  the 
morning, 
The  tapers  gleamed  faintly  adovvn  the  broad 
nave, 
While  at  sombre-draped  altars  the  bells  tinkled 
warning 
Of  Precious  Blood   flowing  there,  wave  upon 
wave. 

All  the  day  flowed  that  Blood  o'er  the  faithful  de- 
parted. 
Each  drop  blotting  out  aught  of  tarnish  and 
stain. 
All  the  day  ransomed  souls  from  their  prison-home 
darted. 
Blest  realms  of  sunlight  eternal  to  gain. 


Came    the    night   of   the   Feast  —  and    the    winds 
hushed  their  moaning, 
From  the  skies  fell  in  benison,  crystals  of  light: 
Through  the  still  air  they  hovered  till  brown  fields 
were  covered. 
And  earth,  like  the  souls,  lay  all  spotless  and 
white. 


w 


90 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


A  CLIENT  OF  THE  ROSARY 


UPON  the  white-draped  table  the  blessed  can- 
dle's flame 
Gleams  fitful  through  the  sick-room,  as  life  through 

the  wasted  frame ; 
Thf     acred  unctions  giv^en,  the  priest  in  his  sur- 
plice and  stole 
Kneels  by  the  bedside  reciting  the  prayers  for  the 
dying  soul. 

Tis  only  a  poor  old  woman  bidding  adieu  to  life, 
Yet  faith  sees  a  soul  heroic  waging  the  crowning 

strife : 
Faith  sees  a  client  of  Mary  —  her  every  breath  a 

prayer, 
Awaiting  the  angel  whose  pinions  already  darken 

the  air. 

The  eyes  grow  fixed  and  glassy;  the  lips  are 
parted  now, 

And  gelid  drops  of  death-sweat  exude  from  the 
furrowed  brow; 

The  heart  throbs  slowly,  faintly;  the  pulse  has 
ceased  to  thrill, 

But  the  poor  worn  hands,  all  shrunken,  are  rest- 
lessly moving  still. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


91 


Her  love  for  her  life's  devotion  disputes  Death's 

trenching  hold, 
And  one  by  one  through  the  fingers  the  blessed 

beads  are  told  :  * 

From  the  lips  come  no  faint  whispers,  comes  only 

a  labored  breath, — 
But  the  eyes  gleam  conscious  ever  at  each  "  hour 

of  our  death." 

Through  threescore   years  of  combat,  the  toiling 

life  of  the  poor. 
The  beads  have  been  her  comfort,  have   nerved 

her  to  endure ; 
Her  liturgy  and  prayer-book,  she  read  them  o'er 

and  o'er, — 
What  wonder  she  still  clasps  them  as  she  nears 

the  other  shore? 


What    mysteries    does    she    ponder?    Ah,    surely 

those  of  glory ; 
F'or,  see,  as  she  ends  the  decades,  her  features  tell 

the  story ; 
The  reflected  light  of  a  vision  illumes  the  pallid 

face, 
And  all  joyous  rings  her  greeting:    "Hail  Mary, 

full  of  grace  !  " 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


k 


A 


1.0 


I.I 


11.25 


■^  Ui2    12.2 
I   ]^    |2.0 

las 


V] 


y 


/A 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  Wli'     'AIN  STRUT 

WiBSTIR,  N.Y.  MSM 

(716)  S73-4503 


c^ 


:,   ■   .'j 


92 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


LOVE    IN    DISGUISE 


How  often  we  mourn  as  a  grievous  misfortune, 
An   event   that  in  time    proves  a  benison 
true, 
How  often  forcret  that  behind  the  black  cloudbanks 
The  sun  is  still  shining,  the  skies  are  still  blue. 
Short-sighted  and  hasty,  we  judge  swift  and  rashly 
Whatsoe'er   in   God's    plans    for  the   moment 
brings  pain ; 
All  unmindful  that  sorrow  may  die  with  the  morrow, 
And  gladness  succeed  it,  as  sunshine  the  rain. 


No  blow  that  e'er  fell  on  our  hopes  and  destroyed 
th?m. 
No  tempest  that  shattered  our  fair  ships  at  sea. 
Wrought  its  havoc  unknown  or  unwilled  of  Our 
Father, 
And  surely  none  love  us  more  truly  than  He ; 
The  blow  was  a  kindness,  the  tempest  a  blessing, 
Though  it  seemed  at  the  time  other  features  to 
wear. 
No  ill  comes  unbidden  but  in  it  lie  hidden 

The  mercy  and  love  of  God's  provident  care. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


93 


ROSES   AND   THORNS 


THE  world  is  a  garden ;    let's  gather  its  roses," 
Sing  the  crowd    in   the  freshness  of   life's 
dewy  morn ; 

They  pluck  the  rich   blooms,  but   each   culling 
discloses 

That  the   fairest  of   blossoms   still  covers  a 
thorn. 


'.  ^ 


**The  cloister's  a  thorn-brake;   ah,  Lord,  all  the 
nigher 

To  Thee,"  say  the  few  in  whose  hearts  true 
love  glows ; 

They  enter;    and  lo !  from  each  rough  prickly 
brier 

There  blooms  out  in  beauty  a  fair,  fragrant 


rose. 


94 


•  ■  ■? 
1  -' 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


A   YEAR   AGO 


(in  memoriam  m.  b.) 


A  YEAR  ago,  when  autumn  leaves  were  falling, 
And    woodland    paths    were    strewn    with 
colors  bright. 
When  wailing  winds,  like  spirits  intcrcaliing, 

Sobbed  out  their  sorrow  o'er  the  song-birds' 
flight, 
When  Holy  Church,  a  mother  tender-hearted. 
On  last  All   Souls'   bemoaned   her  children's 
woe, — 
We  two  conversed  of  death  and  the  departed 
And  Purgatory's  pains,  a  year  ago. 

A  year  ago,  the  tide  of  life  was  leaping 

Along  thy  veins  like  flood  of  sparkling  wine ; 
We    spoke   of    Death,  but   dreamt   not    He   was 
creeping 
With  stealthy  tread  athwart  my  path  or  thine. 
We  breathed  a  prayer,  it  cheers  me  to  remember, 
For  d  ar  ones  gone,  and  wondered  did  they 
know, — 
**Our  turn  may  come,"  said  one,  "ere  next  No- 
vember,"— 
But  neither  believed  it  would,  a  year  ago. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


95 


A  year  ago,  Hope  bade  thee  look  before  thee 

To  lengthened  days  all  free  from  care  and  dole  ; 
Yet  even  then  death's  shadow  darkened  o'er  thee, 

And  now  —  with  tears  we  pray,  "God  rest  thy 
soul!" 
Ah,  me !      Perchance  viy  days  are  almost  ended, 

And,  next  All  Souls',  kind  tears  for  me  may 
flow, 
As  faithful  friends  with  love  and  sorrow  blended, 

Exclaim  :  "  He  still  was  here  a  year  ago  !  " 


' » .  * 


TWO  STARS 


;)■ 


! 


WHEN  the  Wise  Men  sought  for  the  new-born 
King 
Who  had  come  to  rule  o'er  the  earth, 
They  followed  a  star  from  their  hom'=^  afar 
To  the  place  of  Our  Savior's  birth. 


ley 


o- 


And  the  wise  man  still  who  would  seek  Our  Lord 
From  a  star  his  true  course  learns, 

'Tis  the  tiny  light  that  by  day  and  night 
Near  the  tabernacle  burns. 


fl'!^t 


96 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


A  FRIEND  THE  LESS 


ANEWSPAPi: R  item,  brief  and  cold, 
A  two-line  story  tersely  told ; 
'•Died  at  his  home  quite  suddenly,"  — 
My  lifelong  friend,  aged  thirty-three. 

I  saw  him  only  a  month  ago ; 

On  his  face  there  shone  the  ruddy  glow 

Of  perfect  health,  robust  and  strong, — 

The  tide  of  his  life  seemed  to  flow  along 

So  full  and  deep  that  never  a  fear 

Came  to  him  or  me  that  its  ebb  was  near. 


We  chatted  and  laughed  o'er  the  days  gone  by, 

Youth's  sunny  years  that  so  swiftly  fly; 

Contrasted  the  dreams  of  that  younger  time 

With  our  real  careers  in  this  our  prime ; 

And,  glancing  beyond  the  present,  planned 

A  coming  trip  to  a  Sguthern  land, 

A  holiday  long  'neath  the  purple  skies 

Where  the  flush  of  the  summer  time  never  dies, 

W^here  the  blue  waves  lap  gently  fair  Italy's  shore, 

And  the  spirit  of  Beauty  holds  court  evermore. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 

Only  a  month  since  we  planned  it  all, — 
And  now,  from  my  sight  Death's  sombre  pall 
Has  hidden  my  comrade  that  was  to  be 
On  that  holiday  journey  across  the  sea. 
Only  a  month  —  and  his  sun  that  shone 
Noon-high  has  rushed  to  its  setting,  gone 
Down  where  the  darkness  and  silence  are  rife, 
Down  'neath  the  western  horizon  of  life. 


m 


\^  <l 


)j 


"  God  rest  his  soul !  "  I  murmur  low, 

"In  that  other  clime  whither  all  must  go. 

May  Our  Lady's  prayers  win  him  swift  release 

From  all  purging  flames  !   May  he  rest  in  peace  ! 

And,  Mother  of  Mercy,  grant  to  me 

Thy  protection  and  care  through  the  years  to  be 

Through  the    years?     Nay,  months,  for  aught 

know, 
That  still  remain  of  my  lifetide'3  flow. 
Be  thou  my  guide,  my  strength,  my  stay ; 
Direct 


I 


my  steps 


day  to  day 


That  when  for  me  the  death-bells  ring. 
And  mourning  friends  my  requiem  sing, 
My  soul  may  fly  to  God  and  thee. 
At  rest  for  all  eternity ! 


i< 


9l 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


THE  DE  PROFUNDIS 


t    I 


OUT  of  the  depths  of  my  woe  have  I  cried  to 
Thee, 
Lord  God  compassionate,  hear  thou  my  voice ; 
Lend  me  Thine  ear  who  for  mercy  have  sighed  to 
Thee, 
Pardon  me  supphant,  bid  me  rejoice. 

Lord,  if  iniquities  Thou  wilt  mark  hccdfully, 

Who   'mongst  Thy  servants  Thy  wrath  may 
sustain? 

Clemency  bides  in  Thy  heart  for  us  needfully : 
Thine,  on  account  of  Thy  law,  I  remain. 

Resteth  my  soul  on  His  word  all  confidingly. 
Hopeful  for  aye  of  His  mercy's  award  : 

E'en  from  the  morn  unto  night,  and  abidingly, 
Israel,  child  of  Him,  hope  in  the  Lord. 

For  with  the  Lord  there  is  mercy  and  gracious- 
ness, 

Plentiful  flows  His  redemption's  deep  stream, — 
Broader  than  ocean  its  infinite  spaciousness : 

Israel's  sins  will  He  also  redeem. 


BETWEEN  1171/ LES 


99 


^li! 


WHERE  \Vr:  LAID  HIM 


(in   MEMOUIAM    FATHKR    PATRICK    BRADLEY) 


"T  1  niKRK  have  you  laid  him?"  —  "Lord,  come 
V  Y       and  sec." 

•'And  Jesus  wept."  so  the  Scriptures  tell: 
Yea,  groaned  in  spirit  full  bitterly 

O'er  the  death  of  His  friend  loved  long  and  well. 
No  need,  then,  to  blush,  be  we  never  so  brave, 
For  the  sorrow  that  whelms  us  wave  on  wave. 

No  shame  in  the  grief  that  seeks  for  relief 
In  our  tears  that  fall  on  a  new-made  grave. 

Where  laid  we  him?     First,  in  a  shrouded  room 
Of  the  home  he  ennobled  for  many  a  year. 

(Ah,  me ;   that  an  aspect  of  deepest  gloom 

Should  succeed  to  its  old-time  welcome  cheer  ! ) 

Three  well-filled  decad'^s  he  dwelt  therein, 

A  peaceful  haven  from  strife  and  din. 

The  bank  of  the  poor,  and  a  refuge  sure 

For  the  wayworn  outcast  weary  of  sin. 

We  laid  him  next  in  his  other  home, 

That  parish  church  which  he  served  so  well : 

(Twas  echoing  still  from  pavement  to  dome 
With  his  virile  preaching's  entrancing  spell.) 


lOO 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


i\^. 


What  thousands  of  Masses  therein  he  said, 
What  myriads  of  souls  to  their  Maker  led, 

What  labors  of  love  for  His  F*ather  above 
That  he  wrought  there  while  living,  now  plead  for 
him  dead  ! 

In  his  mother-earth  we  laid  him  at  last, 

Beneath  the  shade  of  the  churchyard  Cross, 

While  the  dirge  of  the  bleak  November  blast 

Made  moan  with  his  flock  who  bewailed  their 
loss. 

'Mid  the  scores  of  the  dead  he  had  buried  there, 

We  lowered  him  down  with  reverent  care  — 
His  life-course  run,  and  his  lifework  done  — 

Rcqiiicscat  in  pacCy  our  parting  prayer. 

Not  a  common  man  was  this  friend  to  whose  tomb 
A  multitude  thronged  from  anear  and  afar, 

All  creeds  and  all  classes  oppressed  with  gloom : 
He  differed  from  others  as  star  from  star. 

How  brilliant  his  glory,  how  great  our  debt, 

Though  we  loved  him  well,  we  had  scarce  guessed 
yet. 
Till  his  death  spread  around  a  night  so  pro- 
found, 

We  knew  that  our  brightest  of  stars  had  set. 


It 


B  ETWEE  A'  WHILES 


lOI 


MAY  THEY  REST  IN  PEACE 


REQUIKSCANT  IN  PACE!     Tis  ever 
November's  compassionate  dirge, 
Tis  the  undertone  of  the  forest's  moan, 

The  sob  of  the  ocean's  surge ; 
It  runs  through  the  night-wind's  threnode, 

A  sad  and  a  haunting  refrain, — 
May  they  rest  in  peace  !      May  they  win  release 
From  their  exile  and  grief  and  pain  ! 

Requiescaut  in  pace!     We  echo 

The  chant  of  the  forest  and  sea, 
And  peace  anon  o'er  our  loved  ones  gone 

Will  break  in  response  to  our  plea. 
We  can,  if  we  will,  pay  their  ransom. 

Can  open  their  prison-door, 
And  proffer  them  joy  that  knows  no  alloy. 

Nor  will  know  it  forevermore. 

Requiescaut  iu  pace!     Ah,  Mother, 

Thine  too  is  November's  prayer ; 
For  thy  heart  condoles  with  those  stricken  souls 

Who  fain  would  thy  glory  share. 
Then  plead,  we  entreat,  for  our  dear  ones, 

Plead  on  till  the  moment  when 
To  thy  fond  request:    "Lord,  grant  them  rest," 

Thy  Son  gives  the  answer,  *'  Amen  !  " 


» . . 


I02 


BETWEI'.X  iVmiES 


DEATH'S  ADVENT 


I 


WILL  it  come  at  close  of  an  illness  long, 
A  lingering  twilight  of  pain, 
When  the  gathering  gloom  will  foretell  my  doom, 

Proving  hope  of  recovery  vain? 
Will  life's  brimming  tide  sink  steadily  down 

Like  a  river  that  ebbs  to  the  sea, 
With  a  gradual  fall  till  'tis  emptied  all  — 
Is  it  thus  Death  will  come  unto  !ne? 

Will  it  come  like  bolt  from  the  cloudless  blue, 

Like  white  squall  on  the  summer  main, — 
Just  a  sudden  dart  to  arrest  the  heart, 

And  palsy  the  teeming  brain? 
Will  the  earth-lights  fade  and  the  darkness  come 

With  never  a  warning  sign? 
In  life's  noontide  glow  to  be  stricken  low, — 

Is  a  fate  such  as  this  to  be  mine? 

Ah,  it  naught  avails  to  conjecture  now 

What  the  mode  of  Death's  coming  may  be ; 
Whether  slow  or  swift  I  am  set  adrift 

On  eternity's  boundless  sea : 
Let  me  live  each  day  as  it  were  my  last, 

Let  my  love  for  my  God  ne'er  abate ; 
And  Death  at  the  end  I  shall  welcome  as  friend, 

Come  his  summons  or  soon  or  late. 


HE  m  EEN  WHILES 


\o\ 


THIC  M()TIir:R  OF  MKRCY 


.1 


LATK  my  soul  with  dread  and  doubting  grown 
uncjuict, 
Grieved  all  hopeless  at  the  thought  of  squan- 
dered days, 
At  the  waste  of  life  through  passion's  frenzied  riot, 

At  the  sin  and  shame  and  folly  of  my  ways. 
For  I  summoned  all  my  guilty  years  before  me, 

And  reviewed  their  baleful  records  one  by  one,— 
Ah,  what  wonder  black  Despair  then  hovered  o'er 
me. 
Shrieking  fiercely:    *'Thou  art  lost  to  Mary's 
Son." 

How  I  trembled  in  that  bleak  hour 

At  the  words  of  the  demon  dark. 
How  I  longed  lor,  but  lacked,  the  power 

To  rekindle  hope's  dying  spark. 
As  a  deer  o'ertaken  by  hounds, 
I  quaked  at  those  direful  sounds: 
"Too  late  hast  thou  counted  the  cost  — 
Too  late.     Thou  art  lost,  thou  art  lost !  " 
Then  burst  from  my  soul  terror-stricken 

A  prayer  that  in  youth  I  had  prayed : 
"O  Mary,  the  clouds  round  me  thicken: 

Sweet  Mother  of  Mercy,  give  aid  !  " 


n. . 


r 


I 


'••I  I 


!i 


.'.\ 


w.  \ 


I04 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


!■ 


m^ 


n 


■!    ■< 


Swift  as  calm  swept   o'er  each   billow  and    sub- 
dued it, 
When  the  Man-God  told  the  tempest:   "  Peace 
be  still." 
Mary  roused  my  waning  courage  and  renewed  it, 
Kindled  hope  again  and  nerved  my  weakened 
will. 
•'Not  too  late,  my  child,"  her  gracious  voice  as- 
sured me, 
•*  If  thy  penance  be  but  earnest  and  sincere ; 
Through   the   ages  none   have  perished  who  ad- 
jured me, 
In  thine  every  strait  and  peril  I  am  near." 

And  Despair  fled  wrathful  away 

Ere  my  Mother's  voice  had  done. 
He  had  counted  full  sure  on  his  prey, 

Had  deemed  that  the  battle  was  won ; 
But  with  Mary,  our  Lady  of  Hope, 
No  fiend  of  them  all  can  cope, 
And  my  soul  had  escaped  his  snare 
With  the  help  of  that  Lady  fair. 
So  my  heart  with  her  love  will  quicken, 

I  shall  ransom  my  past,  undismayed, 
Safe  to  call,  when  the  storm-clouds  thicken, 

On  the  Mother  of  Mercy  for  aid. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


105 


THE  DEAD  HAND  OF  FOLIGNO 


I  STOOD  within  a  grey  old  convent's  walls 
In  Umbria,  and  heard  the  wondrous  tale, 
How  once  therein  God  drew  aside  the  veil 
That  screens  from  mortal  view  the  prison-halls 
Where  languish  those  whose  agonizing  calls, 
Upborne  to  c^rth  with  many  a  sobbing  wail, 
Are  echoed  shrill  in  each  autumnal  gale, — 
Poor  captive  souls  whom  mystic  fire  enthralls. 


m 


I . 


i  (,■ 


I  saw  the  imprint  of  the  flame-shot  hand 

Traced  clear  and  deep  in  charred  and  black- 
ened wood. 
And  felt  the  shadowed  forms  of  spirit-land 

Troop  lightly  by  and  brush  me  vvhc   c  I  stood, 
The  while  my  soul  exhaled  a  fervent  prayer : 
"  God    grant    them    rest,  my    friends   who    suffer 
there ! " 


io6 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


LOVE'S  TOUCHSTONE 


(in  memoriam  very  rev.  e,  sorin,  c.  s.  c.) 


Earth's  saints,  how  pure  soe'er  to  mortal  eyes, 
So  wholly  free  from  blemish,  soil,  or  stain, 
And  fitted,  as  we  deem,  at  once  to  gain 
Beyond  death's  portal  life's  supernal  prize, 
Will  stand,  it  may  be,  robed  in  other  guise 

Before  their  Judge ;   still  may  some  debts  re- 
main. 
To  cancel  which  fierce  ecstasies  of  pain 
Enthrall  our  dead,  and  force  their  doleful  sighs. 

So,  Father  dear,  to  thine  own  counsels  true, 
Our  hearts  to  Mary's  tender  heart  lay  siege, 

Still  begging  her  to  free  thy  soul  of  rue, 
And  rest  eternal  grant  her  subject  liege : 

E'en  thus  we  best  requite  thy  gentle  care, 

The  touchstone  of  our  love  not  praise,  but  prayer. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


107 


w  4 


NOVEMBER  FEASTS 


O  Mother  Church,  an  artist  thou  whose  skill 
Awakes  the  soul's  most  latent  harmonies : 
With  touch  unfailing  dost  thou  sweep  its  keys, 
And  myriad  vibrant  chords  responsive  thrill 
In  paeans  jubilant  as  laughing  rill, 

Or  dirges  sad  as  ocean's  threnodies : 
'Tis  thus  November  feasts,  by  thy  decrees. 
With  bliss  and  woe  our  hearts  successive  fill. 


All  Saints'  in  joy,  All  Souls'  in  grief,  we  spend, 
Yet  grieving,  aid  our  dear  ones  gone  before : 

Their  ransom  blest  in  orisons  we  send, 

And  bid  Our  Lady  ope  their  prison-door: 

For  love,  faith-shot,  of  death  itself  is  free, 

And  prayer  outstretches  to  eternity. 


io8 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


I  Si 

nil 


TO  SISTERS  IN  RELIGION 


M 


,  1 


^1^ 


(on  the  death  of  their  father) 


I  ASK  no  better  fate,  when  life  at  last 
With  all  its  toil  and  fret  and  strife  is  o'er, 
When  I  have  trembling   reached  the  farther 
shore 
Of  death's  dread  gulf,  and  my  poor  soul  is  cast 
God's  crucible  within,  where  fierce  and  fast 
The  purging  flames  of  justice  leap  and  roar, 
Than  this  to  know :   that  through  my  prison- 
door 
,  Pierce  Sisters'  prayers  to  lull  the  fiery  blast. 


And  so  I  hold  your  father's  portion  blest: 

If  still,  perchance,  of  prayer  he  knows  the  need, 

He  feels  his  dear  ones'  hearts  will  stand  the  test 
Of  truest  love,  and  for  him  daily  plead. 

Swift  pardon  his  as  mercy  e'er  allows 

Whose  Judge  is  but  his  daughters'  chosen  Spouse. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


109 


•V  ' 


kEPENTANCE 


FULL  oft  the  traitor's  loathsome  part  I've  played 
To  Thee,  dear  Lord,  whose  service  long  ago 
I  chose  with  all  a  youthful  soldier's  glow, 
Protesting  true  allegiance,  undismayed 
By  thought  of  ceaseless  war  with  hell's  brigade, — 
Yet,  passion-blinded,  I  have  joined  the  foe 
Who  constant  strive  to  lay  Thy  standard  low, 
Have  crimsoned  in  Thy  blood  my  dastard  blade. 


>"  i 


led, 


And  dare  I  still,  red-handed  rebel,  hope 

For  aught  more  merciful  than  traitor's  doom  ? 

Or  beg  that  once  again  Thy  ranks  will  ope 
To  give  my  sorrow  and  my  penance  room? 

None  otb^r,  Lord,  than  Thou  would  e'er  forgive ; 

Yet  grant  me  that,  converted,  I  may  live. 


I  lO 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


'■\\ 


AN  ANNIVERSARY 


';. 


■    I 


A  YEAR  ago  to-day  around  her  bier, 
All  sorrowful  we  clustered,  doubting  still 
That  ne'er  again  the  merry  laugh  would  trill 
From  out  those  hueless  lips  with  jocund  cheer, — 
That  only  in  some  other,  farther  sphere. 

Those  eyes,  so  wont  with  pity's  drops  to  fill, 
Would  ope, —  that  verily  the  boundless  ill 
Of  death  had  smitten  her  whom  all  held  dear. 

Twelve  months  have  sped,  and  o'er  her  peaceful 
tomb 

A  granite  shaft  upbears  the  saving  Cross, 
The  grasses  bow  and  sway,  the  flowers  bloom, — 

Yet  in  our  hearts  still  aches  the  sense  of  loss. 
What  can  we  say,  the  while  the  seasons  roll, 
But,  as  a  year  ago,  '*  God  rest  her  soul !  " 


•  I 


BETiVEEN   WHILES 


1 1 1 


HUMAN  RESPECT 


WOULDST  understand  his  folly  stark  who  fears 
To  shape  his  course  aright  and  hold  his 
way 
Along  the  line  of  duty  plain  as  day, 
Because,  forsooth,  of  neighbors'  gibes  and  sneers. 

Of   shrugging   shoulders,    scornful    smiles,    sharp 
jeers  — 

Who  weakly  yields  himself  a  willing  prey 

To  anxious  thoughts  of  "what  the  world  will 

say," 

And  so  the  course  he  knows  the  wrong  one  steers? 


Go,  watch  him  when  at  length  that  course  is  run : 
Of  what  avail  the  world'r  approval  now? 

Think  you  'tis  strong  as  thoughts  of  duty  done 
To  still  the  throbbing  of  that  anguished  brow? 

Ah,  friend,  e'en  let  the  world  say  good  or  ill, — 

'Tis  what  God  says  should  be  our  standard  still. 


'i,        •* 

■St.       ■% 


I 

1 


112 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


QUEEN  AND  NUN 


(in   MEMORIAM  mother  AUGUSTINE) 


AN  HOUR  ago  of  coming  pomps  I  read, 
Of  many  a  splendid  show  and  brilliant  scene 
Will  grace  the  Jubilee  of  England's  Queen, — 
W'Aen  suddenly  they  told  me,  **  Mother's  dead." 
And  swift  my  startled  thought  took  wings  and  sped 
Beyond  the  boundaries  of  things  terrene, 
Across  the  mystic  gulf  that  lies  between 
This  world  and  that  whereto  her  soul  has  fled. 


With  faith's  clear  vision  scanned  I  then  the  worth  — 
The  gulf  once  crossed  —  of  regal  pomp,  of  fame, 

Of  honors  lofty  as  are  known  to  earth. 

Of  glory  bright  as  decks  Victoria's  name ; 

And  mused :   **Ah,  me,  when  life's  brief  course  is 
run, 

No  queen  so  royal  as  the  lowly  nun." 


I  . 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


>«3 


:i!i 


THE  WAY  OF  THE  CROSS 


TEACH  me,  dear  Lord,  to  tread  Thy  doleful  way 
With  spirit  all  in  unison  with  Thine, 
With  soul  amazed  that  even  love  divine 
At  such  a  cruel  cost  could  thus  defray 
Our  debt  of  heinous  sin,  with  heart  a  prey 
To  contrite  grief  and  penitence,  that  mine 
Have  been  the  hands  Thy  crown  of  thorns  to 
twine,  . 

And  wield  the  scourge  Thy  sacred  flesh  to  flay. 

Ah,  Lord  !     'Tis  I  that  heavy  Cross  should  bear ; 

But  since  my  burden  Thou  hast  made  Thine 
own, 
Let  me  at  least  in  spirit  with  Thee  share 

Each  day  the  grievous  load ;   let  me  atone, 
By  tracing  oft  the  journey  Thou  hast  trod, 
For  all  my  countless  crimes  'gainst  Thee,  my  God. 


»■  *. 


t 


i 


114 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


I 

it 


■4 


TO  FRIENDS 


(on  the  death  op  their  father) 


w 


HY  mourn  the  ripened  ear  of  tasseled  wheat 
That  in  the  fullness  of  the  harvest-day 
Sinks   low  beneath    the   sickle's  ruthless 
sway 
And  prostrate  lies?     Its  life  hath  been  complete 
From  seed  to  blade^  from  blade  to  kernel  sweet; 
And  sterner  fate  it  were  should  slow  decay 
Sap  stealthily  its  full-grown  grace  away, — 
The  reaper's  timely  stroke  brings  ending  meet. 


\ 


Like  ripened  ear,  in  God's  own  harvest-time, 
Your  father's  mortal  husk  doth  stricken  lie ; 

Yet  know  you  well  (who  live  by  faith  sublime) 
His  soul,  the  body's  kernel,  ne'er  can  die ; 

Grieve  not  but  bless ;   the  Hand  divine  hath  given 

To  each  of  you  one  friend  the  more  in  heaven. 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


»I5 


IN  THANKSGIVING 


rJ 


! 


I  THANK  Thee,  Lord,  for  blessings  manifold  — 
For  countless  gifts  of  nature  and  of  grace, 
For  life  and  health,  for  courage  to  embrace 
In  youth  the  calling  of  Thy  choice,  and  hold 
Thereto   through  years  when  pristine  love  grew 
cold, 
For  all  Thy  patience  while  I  ran  apace 
Down  Folly's  path,  for  warnings  to  retrace 
My  wayward    steps   ere  Death's   dread    knell   be 
tolled. 


;•  i 


Not  least  I  thank  Thee  for  each  holy  friend 

Whom  Thou  hast  taught  to  tender  me  a  love 

Unearned  as  sweet,  whose  daily  prayers  ascend 
More  potent  than  mine  own  could  ever  prove, 

Whose  face  Thou  wilt  accept  as  Job's  of  old, 

And,  guilt  condoned,  my  weakness  still  uphold. 


%.    * 


it 


I' I 


I 


( <, 


lii'j! 


u 


-r4- 


'Hi 


IN   VARIOUS   KEYS 


'*  t 


^^'t^- 


4 

, 

P ; ! 

■  11 

1 

BETWEEN  WHILES 


119 


THE  NEW  YEAR'S  GUERDON 


/»!  rHAT  does  this  New  Year  hold  for  me, 

V  V      What  is  its  largess  like  to  be, 
What  shall  mine  eyes  ere  its  waning  see, 

As  morrow  succeeds  the  morrow? 
Shall  peace  or  strife  fill  each  passing  day, 
Life's  sky  be  sunlit  or  sober  grey. 

Will  flowers  or  thorns  strew  my  future  way, 

Does  the  New  Year  bring  joy  or  sorrow? 

Ah,  the  New  Year  holds  w^hatsoe'er  I  list 

And  my  way  will  be  dark  with  the  shrouding  mist, 

Or  bright,  by  the  golden  sunshine  kissed. 

Just  as  I  choose  to  make  it. 
We  fill  as  we  please  all  the  years  that  run. 
Cloud  them  with  rain  or  gild  them  with  sun ; 
Life's  truest  joy  dwells  in  duty  done, 

Its  grief  burdens  those  who  forsake  it. 


\i\ 


4 

'  I? 


I  20 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


A  THOUGHT 


.  ■'!• 


•fl 


f  ; 

1  ^  ^  ^ »  ' 

EVER  and  always  the  river  is  flowing 
Down  to  the  sea, 
Ever  and  always  the  breezes  are  blowing 

Over  the  lea, 
Ever  the  clouds  o'er  the  heavens  are  sailing 
Swift-passing  spirits  with  winding-sheets  trailing, — 
Earth  and  its  creatures  with  order  unfailing 

Restless  as  we. 

Ever  and  always  my  life-stream  is  racing 

Down  to  death's  sea : 
Why  should  I  waste,  then,  the  moments  in  chasing 

Shadows  that  flee? 
Foolish  to  value  this  life  over  measure, 
Foolish  to  covet  or  honor  or  pleasure. 
Wise  am  I  only  when  seeking  Christ's  treasure 

Promised  to  me. 


■,    .hi 


it' 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


121 


TO  AN  ABSENT  FRIEND 


THOU  hast  parted  from  those  who  e'er  found 
thee 

A  friend  in  their  joys  and  their  tears, 
Thou  hast  broken   the  bright  chains  that  bound 
thee 

To  hearts  that  have  loved  thee  for  years ; 
As  the  torrents  that  rush  down  the  mountain 

With  ruin  flood  valleys  below, 
So  the  wellsprings  of  sorrow's  deep  fountain 

Flood  my  soul  with  the  waters  of  woe. 

Thou  art  gone,  and  in  mournfulest  measure 

The  night-wind  is  chanting  my  pain. 
Yet  it  whispers  one  note  of  sweet  pleasure 

'Tis  of  days  when  we'll  meet  once  again; 
For  all  dark  clouds  have  sure  a  fair  lining 

Of  beauteous  and  silvery  light, 
And  the  sun  of  our  union  is  shining 

Through  the  shadows  of  absence's  night 


if! 


122 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


LIFE'S  GOLDEN  BOWL 


r^ 


r^ 


3'    •■ 


ONCE  on  a  time,  in  the  ages  olden, 
The  heyday  of  chivalry,  faith,  and  love, 
The  dwellers  on  earth  owned  themselves  beholden 

For  all  good  gifts  to  their  Maker  above. 
Then  the  lord  and  the  vassal,  patrician,  peasant, 

Each  knew  the  worth  of  his  deathless  soul, 
Nor  dreamt  of  escaping  e'en  ills  incessant 

By  laying  rash  hands  on  life's  golden  bowl. 

But  the  world  has  grown  older ;  misguided  science 

Has  shattered  full  many  an  ancient  belief ; 
And  men  at  their  Maker  now  hurl  defiance 

Whom  once  they  blessed  for  their  woes'  relief. 
Religion's  a  sham  and  faith  is  treason. 

Death  ends  all,  for  there  is  no  soul; 
So  the  slightest  of  ills  is  deemed  good  reason 

For  wantonly  breaking  life's  golden  bowl. 

Poor  pitiful  dupes  of  a  spreading  madness, 
Most  woful  of  sights  in  a  woful  world  ! 

Self-sentenced  thus  to  eternal  sadness, 

Down  to  the  bottomless  pit  self-hurled. 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


123 


Too  late  have  ye  learned  that  the  God  who  made  you 
Holds  high  domain  o'er  each  living  soul, 

Too  late  discovered  that  fools  betrayed  you 

When   they   counseled    your    breaking    life's 
golden  bowl ! 


GENEROSITY 


i! 


HAST   thou    sometimes   wished    for   unbounded 
wealth, 
P^or  riches  beyond  all  dreaming, 
And  planned  the  good  thou  wouldst  do  by  stealth 

With  the  gold  in  thy  coffers  teeming? 
Has  thy  heart  ached  sore  for  the  stricken  throng 

Crushed  down  by  stern  Poverty's  forces. 
And  thy  spirit  yearned  to  help  them  along, 
If  only  thou  hadst  the  resources? 

Muse  not  on  the  bounty  that  would  be  thine, 

Wert  thou  master  of  golden  treasure ; 
Rather  lavish  the  wealth  of  that  richer  mine 

Which  each  may  own  at  his  pleasure. 
Give  freely  of  kindness  from  day  to  day, 

Let  gentleness  fail  thee  never : 
Mere  gold  and  silver  soon  pass  away ; 

Kindly  words  will  endure  forever. 


%i  \ 


124 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


DECEITFUL  CALMS 


'.:  ■■! 


'  V  '  ;■:• 


^^il 


48":i 


Th'  m 


OUT  upon  the  ocean  when  the  skies  are  clearest, 
When  no  gladsome  ripples  o'er  the  waters 
sweep, 
Cautious  grows  the  sailor,  for  the  storm  is  nearest 
When   in   perfect   calmness  rests  the   mighty 
deep. 

Down  amid  the  valleys  when  the  air  is  heavy, 

When  no  breeze  is  tossing  leaflets  to  and  fro, 
Nature's  warring    powers   soon  their  troops  will 
levy, 
Soon  will  crash  the  thunder,  soon  the  torrents 
flow. 


In  the  darksome  jungle  when  in  perfect  quiet 
Crouches    low    the   tiger,  watching   close  his 
prey. 

Soon  the  bound  is  taken,  soon  ferocious  riot 

Bursts  upon  the  silence  that  o'er  the  forest  lay. 

Ol    he  broad  Niagara,  smoothest  of  the  river 
Glides  the  mighty  volume  just  above  the  fall ; 

There  the  fated  boatman  feels  no  warning  quiver, — 
Yet,  one  moment  later,  death  has  ended  all. 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


125 


Like  the  perfect  stillness  of  river,  vale,  or  ocean, 
Like  the  breathless  silence  of  the  jungle's  king, 

Oft  the  soul  seems  calmest,  freest  from  commotion. 
When  its  dormant  passions  to  life  and  vigor 
spring. 


GLA.NTS 


OUT  on  the  hillside  over  the  way, 
A  dozen  of  merry  lads  at  play 
With  noisy  shouts  and  laughter  gay, 
A  huge  white  giant  are  making ; 
Hither  and  thither,  to  and  fro. 
Are  rolled  about  the  balls  of  snow 
Which  soon  so  great  and  heavy  grow 
That  the  rollers'  backs  are  aching. 

Ever  and  ever,  day  by  day, 

When  skies  are  cloudless  or  sober  gray, 

In  joy  or  grief,  at  work  or  play. 

Some  giant  each  boy  is  making: 
For  habits  grow,  like  the  snowballs,  fast. 
And  bad  ones  soon  great  shadows  cast, 
Till  there  comes  a  cruel  day  at  last 

When  their  strength  defies  all  breaking. 


?*d 


In 
1 1 


126 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


MEMORY 


I 


M 


EMORV's  bells  to-night  are  chiming, 
Chiming  out  a  weird  refrain, 
Measured  as  the  cadenced  rhyming 
Of  some  sweet  poetic  strain. 

Memory's  brush  to-night  is  painting, 
Painting  scenes  of  long  ago, 

Clear  the  outlines,  no  sad  tainting 
Mars  the  pictures  as  they  grow. 

Memory's  torch  to-night  is  throwing, 
Throwing  o'er  the  years  gone  by 

Beams  of  light  that  swift  are  showing 
Forms  that  'neath  the  snowdrifts  lie. 


ut 


\h 


Memory's  eyes  to-night  are  glancing, 
Glancing  at  my  youth's  fair  prime, 

Days  of  bliss  and  hopes  entrancing 
Down  the  corridors  of  time. 

And  the  lesson  Memory  teaches, 
Thus  reviewing  all  my  past. 

Is  the  same  that  Conscience  preaches - 
Only  virtue's  joys  can  last. 


lU'TirEEN   WHILES 


127 


AT  A  GRAVE  IN  WINTER 


1: 


WHAT  doth  it  profit  to  gain  the  world, 
Or  madly  to  seek  as  our  goal 
Its  honor  and  glory,  wealth  and  joy. 

If  we  lose,  in  the  seeking,  our  soul? 
Whether  men  my  life  and  my  work  ignore. 

Or  acclaim  me  a  hero  brave. 
What  shall  I  reck  when  the  snowflakes  weave 
Their  jewelled  shroud  o'er  my  grave? 

What  doth  it  profit  to  gain  the  world  — 

A  rank  which  the  world  calls  proud, 
A  permanent  niche  in  the  Temple  of  Fame, 

Or  the  fleeting  applause  of  the  crowd? 
Not  the  censure  or  praise  of  the  world  I've  left, 

But  of  Him  who  my  life  to  me  gave, 
Will  matter  to  me  when  the  snowflakes  drop 

Their  crystal  gems  o'er  my  grave. 

Oh,  the  heart  cries  aloud  for  an  infinite  good, 

A  cry  which  the  world  can  ne'er  still ; 
And  there's  one  thing  alone  that  profits  in  life. 

The  doing  of  God's  holy  will. 
If  only  the  years  that  are  mine  be  spent 

In  an  effort  my  soul  to  save. 
The  rest  will  be  naught  when  the  snowflakes  weave 

Their  jewelled  shroud  o'er  my  grave. 


i'i 


t 


Pi 


Ilia 


Hit' 


i- ' 


I'M 


'•  *' 

i 

iff 

' 

n 

L 1.,  id 

128 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


THE  VACANT  CHAIR 


SILVER  moonbeams  gently  stealing 
Through  our  cottage-pane  to-night 
On  a  group  of  children  kneeling 

Throw  their  soft  and  mellow  light. 
Lonely  all,  no  word  is  spoken, 

Grief  is  stamped  on  every  brow; 
Let  the  silence  be  unbroken  — 
Mother's  chair  is  vacant  now. 

Oft  in  joy  we  thronged  around  it, 

Oft,  when  sad  with  childish  care, 
Sought  relief  and  ever  found  it 

In  the  dear  one  seated  there. 
On  that  throne  each  night  we  kissed  her, 

Gave  her  there  our  morning  bow — 
But  to-night,  how  we  have  missed  her !  — 

Mother's  chair  is  vacant  now. 

Yet,  though  mother's  gone  forever, 

Still  her  gentle  spirit's  near: 
Ah,  her  kindly  voice  can  never 

Cease  resounding  in  my  ear. 
And  that  seat,  my  glances  meeting 

I  shall  see  her  placid  brow, 
And  shall  hear  her  loving  greeting, 

Though  her  chair  be  vacant  now. 


BKTIVEKN    W  UILES 


129 


TO  AGNKS 


(ON    HKK    UIKTHUAV) 


BIRTHDAYS    are    milestones   we    pass   on    life's 
journey, 

Nearer  with  each  comes  the  terminal    goal; 
Birthdays  are  breathing-whiles  snatched  from  life's 
tourney — 

Strife  wherein  each  plays  the  warrioV's  r6le. 
Lagging  they  come  to  the  youth  or  the  maiden, 

Eager  to  grasp  what  the  years  hold  in  store- 
Swift,  all  too  swift  to  the  old,  sorrow-laden. 

Musing  on  days  that  are  lost  evermore. 

Namesake  of  her  who  is  maidenhood's  glory, 
What  shall  I  wish  thee,  this  festival  day? 

Surely  that  thou  live  anew  her  fair  story, 

Treading  undaunted  where  she  leads  the  way 

What   though    no    martyrdom's    crowning  betide 
thee, 

Still  mayest  thou  love  with  St.  Agnes's  love, 
Shunning  with  her  whatsoe'er  would  divide  thee 
From  the  Redeemer,  thy  blest  Spouse  above. 


L  f.  \ 


i^  I 


':    \'- 


130 


BETWEHN   IVIIILKS 


LIFE'S  HEROES 


■ 

m 


w 


V  I 


N(  )T  alone  is  he  a  hero  who  is  brave  where  can- 
non thunder, 
Or  with  ardor  hastes  to  mingle  in  the  carnage 
of  the  strife ; 
Greater  deeds  by  nobler  soldiers  oft  elicit  naught 
of  wonder, 
For   the   field  whereon   they  act  them   is   the 
batdefield  of  life. 

'Tis  not  always  he  whose  name  is  blazoned  fair  in 
Honor's  story, 
Who  most  merits  from  his  fellows  glowing  trib- 
utes to  his  might; 
Oft  a  higher,  purer  hero  acts  a  part  unknown  to  glory. 
Acts  it  simply  as  his  duty,  struggling  bravely 
in  the  right. 

Striking  ventures,  deeds  uncommon,  feats  of  rash, 
instinctive  daring, 
Do  not  always  mark  the  presence  of  a  courage 
real,  true ; 
Better  far  the  reasoned  action  of  a  heart  no  effort 
sparing, 
First  to  know  what  deed  is  worthy,  then  that 
deed  forthwith  to  do. 


i 


BE  Til  EEN    It  '////.AS 


13' 


Call  him  hero,  if  you  wish  it,  who  in  storm  or  con- 
flagration, 
Risks   his   Hfo   in   deadly  peril   to   preserve    a 
friend  or  foe ; 
Still  the  act.  though  brave,  may  cost  him  far  less 
trouble  and  vexation 
Than  the  slightest  manly  effort  to  restrain  his 
passions'  flow. 


I . 


E'en  ignoble  men  and   hardened,  nature's  coarse 
and  wholly  brutal, 
Sometimes,  spurred  by  love  of  plaudits,  seem 
to  play  the  hero's  role;  ^ 

Theirs  is   but  a   noble   impulse,  and    their   claim 
must  e'er  prove  futile. 
If  they  wish  their  names  as  /ni'ocs  fair  inscribed 
on  Honor's  scroll. 


See    the    oft-recurring    struggles,    daily   combats, 

trials  bitter 
That  beset  the   faithful   Christian,   striving  for 

celestial  crown : 
Is  not  he  who  /uTe  is  victor  far  more  noble,  better. 

fitter 

To  receive  our  glad  acclaim  and  win  a  lasting 
bright  renown? 


i  !         ? 


if^  H 


w 

I 

I 

I 


i'f; 


ii 


'i  jli: 


I,  ," 


132     . 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


Some  there  are,  both  high  and  lowly,  who  repine 
not  when  they're  smitten. 
Cheerful  while  their  spirits  quiver  'neath  afflic- 
tion's heavy  rod  : 
These  are  heroes,   brave    and  worthy,  and   their 
names  are  ever  written, 
Not  on  fleeting  human  records,  but  in  volumes 
penned  by  God. 


!     'I' 
J-       , 


;     t 


A  BIRTHDAY  GREETING 


i  'I 


l\        ,?!• 


(to  s.  p.) 


EACH  birthday  ends  one  chapter  more 
Of  the  book  entitled  LIFE, — 
Ah,  when  we  glance  the  pages  o'er. 
And  mark  the  bootless  strife 
That  filled  the  years  so  swiftly  flown, 
How  oft  we  sigh  and  grieve  and  moan ! 

Each  birthday  opes  a  chapter  new 
Of  that  book  we  all  must  write, — 

Oh,  let  thine  treat  of  courage  true, 
Of  deeds  forever  bright, 

Of  patience  'neath  the  chastening  rod, 

And  heart-throbs  beating  all  for  God. 


BETWEEN    WHILES 


133 


THE  HOLY  INNOCENTS 


SWEEPS  through  Judea  a  wild  lamentation, 
Threnode  of  heart-riven,  piteous  woe, 
Waihngs  of  Rachels  whose  sad  tribulation 

Solace  nor  comfort  nor  batem-nt  can  know: 
Bursts  forth  in  Heaven  a  paean  of  gladness, 

Jubilant  chorus  of  conquest  and  praise,       . 
Greeting  the  victims  of  tyranny's  madness. 
Martyrs  of  Christ  in  their  infancy's  days. 


Babes  and  yet  heroes,  for,  dowered  with  reason. 

Clearly  they  saw  and  accepted  their  doom, 
Bartering  life  in  its  yet  budding  season, 

Choosing  in  preference  martyrdom's  bloom ; 
Fuller  of  triumph  than  pathos  their  story — 

Litde  ones  blest  'mongst  the  children  of  earth, 
Infants  with  Christ  and  first  fruits  of  His  glory. 

Innocents  crowned  with  the  death  that  is  life. 


I'    ii 


ill 


134 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


MUSINGS 


\  fm 


DO  WE  ever  in  our  dreamings 
Read  the  Future's  mystic  tale? 
Do  we  ever  catch  brief  glimpses 

Of  the  scenes  beyond  the  veil? 

When  the  body,  wrapt  in  slumber, 

Cumbers  not  the  spirit's  flight, 

Does  the  soul  outstrip  the  present. 

Speeding  onward  to  the  light? 


i'<\...^ 


Do  our  dreams  prove  sometimes  truthful? 

Do  we  ever  thus  foresee 
Aught  that  lies  beyond  the  moment, 

Can  we  know  what  is  to  be  ? 
Oft  I  think  so,  and  I  wonder. 

When  the  mists  have  rolled  away, 
Will  the  pictures  fair  of  dreamland 

Then  look  lovely  as  to-day. 


^  «iiji 


;  jjij: 


BETWEEN    WHILES 


135 


THE  DEATH  OF  A  RELIGIOUS 


S 


I   LOOK  on  Death,  but  do   not   feel  the  sadness, 
grief,  or  pain 
I've   felt  in  other  chambers  where  that  Monarch 
held  his  reign, 

I  gaze  on  waxen  features  cold  and  lifeless  as  the 
snow,  - 

Yet  cannot  mourn  the  bright  young  life  that  made 
those  features  glov\ 

I  looked  upon  her  dying —  marked  the  short  and 
fitful  breath, 

And  heard  the  meek  and  gentle  voice  plead  earn- 
estly for  death; 

It  was  no  plaint  of  anguish  born,  no  cry  for  pain- 
less rest, 

Twis  c-iildlike  Love's  imploring  prayer  to  gain 
>'•--  Father's  breast. 

A  chaste  aad  spotless  lily  guarded  well  from  tem- 
pests wild, 

Her  heart  inflamed  with  love  divine,  her  soul  all 
undefiled, — 

Ah,  olemn  Death  no  terror  brings  to  mortals  such 
as  she ; 

He  comes  a  friend,  who  cuts  the  cord  and  sets  a 
captive  free. 


I  fn 


m 


f 


r  ■ 


136 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


I 


m 


Then  grieve  not,  ye  who  loved  her;  chant  no 
mournful  dirges  here ; 

*Tis  joy's  triumphant  paeans  that  should  echo 
round  her  bier. 

Rejoice  as  for  those  heroes  bold  who  strike  bat- 
talions down, 

For  she  has  fought  life's  battle  and  has  won  the 
victor's  crown. 

And  ye  who  saw  the  virtues         our  Sister,  teacher, 

friend, 
Oh,  treasure  well  her  lessons  that  like  hers  your 

lives  may  end  ; 
Let    the    world    be ''in   the   background";    keep 

God's  glory  ever  first. 
And  so,  like  Sister  Clement's,  shall  your  souls  for 

Heaven  thirst. 

I  kneel  beside  the  marble  form  (we  promised  her 

our  prayers),  • 

But  musing   on  her  sacrifice,  her  trials,  troubles, 

cares, 
Her  holy  life  and  saintly  death,  methinks  her  joy 

I  see; 
And   so  the  prayer  I  murmur  is :  "  Dear  Sister, 

pray  for  ;//^." 


^^r? 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


137 


IDEALS  OF  YOUTH 


There's  a  legend  that's  told  of  a  student  of  old, 
Who  afar  from  the  world  loved  to  roam, 
How  he  found  a  bleak  cave  near  the  wild  ocean  wave, 

How  he  lived  there  and  made  it  his  home ; 
And  he  sang  to  the  breeze  that  came  over  the  seas, 

Of  the  Master  whose  love  he  would  win, 
For  he  spent  all  his  days  in  thanksgiving  and  praise. 
And  he  dreaded  no  evil  but  sin. 


\ 


i 


^  \ 


Thus  in  solitude  drear  for  full  many  a  year 

Did  this  student  in  sanctity  dwell, 
And  his  garments  were  mean,  and  right  frugal,  I 
ween, 

His  repasts  in  that  dim,  rocky  cell. 
But  his  soul  still  enjoyed  a  content  unalloyed, 

Still  his  love  for  his  Lord  grew  amain; 
And  he  chanted  his  psalm  in  the  storm  and  the  calm, 

And  the  ocean-wave  sang  the  refrain. 

And  one  eve  when  the  surge  moaned  a  low,  plain- 
tive dirge, 
And  the  sky  lowered  sullen  and  dark, 
Through  the  blackness  of  night  he  espied  a  bright 

light, 

And  afar  on  the  waters  a  bark. 


-Jl 


138 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


MA 


»  \ 


Not  more  wondrously  fast  blows  the  wild,  wintry 
blast 
Than  that  vessel  strange  dashed  through  the 
wave, 
And  the  student  with  dread   saw,  as-  onward  she 
sped, 
That  her  course  led  direct  to  his  cave. 

But   a    marvelous    sight   filled   his    soul    with    af- 
fright. 
When  yet  nearer  to  land  the  bark  came ; 
For  her  sails  and  her  shrouds  were  but  luminous 
clouds, 
And  her  pennants  were  serpents  of  flame. 
Still  unchecked  was  her  speed,  though  most  urgent 
the  need, 
"She'll  be  wrecked,"  cried   the  student,  "  full 
soon, 
But  a  rod  or  two  more,  and   she  strikes  on  the 
shore"  — 
Then  he  sank  to  the  earth  in  a  swoon. 


And  when  consciousness  came,  he  invoked  a  blest 
Name, 
Then  arose  with  a  mind  less  alarmed ; 
But    he    started    amazed    when    about    him    he 
gazed. 
For  the  bark  was  there  still  and  unharmed. 


T^f 


BET  WE  EN   WHILES 


139 


And  he  saw  a  young  queen  robed  in  silvery  sheen, 

And  two  kings  clad  in  purple  array, 
Gliding  swift  o'er  the  foam,  and  they  entered  his 
home, 
•  And  the  student  nor  swooned  nor  could  pray. 

Said  one  monarch:   "Behold,  I'm  the  conqueror, 
Gold, 

At  my  shrine  all  mankind  bend  the  knee ; 
And  the  world  you  may  sway  with  the  wages  I'll  pay, 

If  you  pledge  your  allegiance  to  me." 
Then  the  second :  **  I'm  Fame ;  follow  me  and  thy 
name 

Shall  be  known  in  each  far  distant  clime, 
And  thy  deeds  of  renown  with  the  years  will  go  down , 

To  be  sung  by  the  bards  of  all  time." 

"Queen  of  Pleasure  am  I,"  was  the  maid's  joyous 
cry ; 
"  Let  your  heart  and  your  homage  be  mine, 
And  the  waves  on  life's  stream  will  sparkle  and  gleam 

With  the  lustre  of  bright  ruby  wine." 
As  she  ceased,  a  fair  youth  on  whose  countenance 
Truth 
Stamped  a  charm  of  ineffable  grace, 
'Mid  the  group  did  appear,  and  with  jasper-tipped 
spear, 
Wrote  these  words  on  the  wall's  rugged  face  : — 


if 


*}*  '■•  ti 


1     ! 


J  H 


fl 


IP' 


ttl 


140 


BETU'F.KN   nJIJLKS 


"  Would  you  win  constant  joy  and  the  sweets  that 
ne'er  cloy, 
Serve  not  Pleasure,  nor  Wealth,  nor  Renown  ; 
Let  your  soul  ever  laud  the  perfections  of  God, 

And  your  union  with  Him  be  life's  crown."    • 
In   the  student's   bright  eye  could  the  monarchs 
descry 
Their  defeat,  so  they  fled  as  they  came ; 
And   no  more  to  that  cave  o'er  the  wild   ocean- 
wa  V  e ; 
Sped  the  bark  with  the  pennants  of  flame. 


All  this  happened  of  old ;    but  Fame,  Pleasure, 
and  Gold 
Still  entice  to  their  ranks  ardent  youth  ; 
And  the  glitter  and  glare  of  the  robes  that  they 
wear 
Oft  eclipse  the  chaste  raiments  of  Truth. 
Yet  the  Spirit  of  Light  on  each  heart  still  doth 
write. 
As  the  youth  of  the  legend  on  stone :  — 
*'To  secure  constant  bliss  in  the  next  world  and 
this. 
Love  your  Savior  and  serve  Him  alone." 


Hi' 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


141 


BOY  AND  MAN 


THE  boy  of  to-day  is  the  man  of  to-morrow, 
And  to  find  out  what  manner  of  man  he 
will  be, 

No  aid  from  magician  or  seer  need  we  borrow, 
In  the  glass  of  his  present  his  future  we  see. 

Self  never  is  changed  in  the  process  of  growing, 
No  harvest  is  other  than  slept  in  the  seed ; 

And  each  boy  in  life's  garden  is  constantly  sowing 
His  self  of  the  future,  a  flower  or  weed. 

Ah,   light-hearted   youth   to  whom    Hope   is  e'er 
chanting 

Of  the   honor  and   fame  to  be   won   in   life's 
*  prime, 

Be   not   reckless  to-day   of  what  seeds    you    are 

planting, 
Nor  believe  that  a  habit  grows  weaker  with  time. 
As  your  seed,  so  your  harvest,  with  joy  or  with 

sorrow 

You  are  freighting  each  hour  that  passes  away ; 
And  the  noble  and  true  'mongst  the  men  of  to- 
morrow 

Are   the   pure-hearted,  upright,  good   boys  of 
to-day. 


■i 
I 

i 
I 


in 
:  ■«» 

'It 


i 


:-1 


.1! 


i 


ii. 


;h 


r  ■! 


142 


B^7l VEEN   I VHILES 


TO  M.  B.  F. 


WHEN  we  shall  meet,  through  chance  or  call 
of  duty, 
Though  autumn  sere  or  winter  stern  be  king, 
The   world,  transformed,   will   glow  with   sudden 
beauty. 
And    earth    and    sky   don   all   the   charms  of 
spring.        ^ 
For  eyes  will  beam  a  light  than  sunshine  fairer, 
As   hand   clasps   hand  and  hearts   responsive 
beat; 
And  lips  will  murmur  dulcet  music  rarer 

Than  nature's  melodies,  when  we  shall  meet. 

When  we  shall  meet,  and  scan  each  other's  faces, 
As  once  we  scanned  them  in  the  years  gone  by. 

The  ravage  wrought  by  Time's  relentless  traces 
Will  futile  prove  to  win  a  tear  or  sigh. 

Though  gone  the  beauty  that  was  youth's  adorn- 
ing. 
Each  soul  will  leap  its  kindred  soul  to  greet, 

And  pulses  throb  as  in  life's  radiant  morning 
With  ecstasy  of  joy,  when  we  shall  meet. 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


143 


When  we  shall  meet,  perchance  no  more  to  sever 

The  blest  communion  of  the  olden  time, 
Our  spirits  twain,  e'en  more  attuned  than  ever, 

Will  prove  the  sweets  of  friendship's  golden 
prime. 
The  path  of  duty  will  grow  smooth  and  pleasant, 

Our  transient  sorrows  pass  like  shadows  fleet, 
And  life  itself  seem  benison  incessant 

To  you  and   me,  dear   friend,  when  we  shall 
meet. 


DREAMING 


DREAMING  of  youth  and  its  gladness. 
Dreaming  of  age  and  its  sadness. 
Musing  why  tears  grow  salter  with  years, 
Dreaming  of  days  long  ago ; 
Thinking  how  always  "to-morrow" 
Brought  with  each  pleasure  a  sorrow. 
Musing  on  strife  in  the  battle  of  life. 
Dreaming  of  bliss  and  of  woe. 

Dreaming  of  boyhood's  glad  hours. 
Dreaming  of  sunshine  and  flowers. 


■fp 


ii: 


■t^: 


'  I!! 


iff- 


' ..  i 


. 


u 


>'    1    ! 


H' 


144  BETWEEN    WHILES 

Heaving  a  sigh  that  flowers  must  die, 
Dreaming  of  grief  and  of  pain  ; 
Mourning  dead  friends  tender-hearted, 
Musing  on  days  ere  we  parted, 
Hearing  so  well  each  funeral  bell, 

Dreaming  I'll  meet  them  again. 

Dreaming  of  sweet  inspirations. 
Dreaming  of  spirit-vibrations, 
Hearing  the  voice  that  decided  a  choice, 
Dreaming  of  gain  and  of  loss; 
Thinking  of  love  glowing  brightly, 
Musing  on  burdens  borne  lightly, 
Breathing  a  prayer  thus  ever  to  bear, 

Dreaming  of  Christ  and  His  Cross. 

Dreaming  of  weary  paths  wended. 
Dreaming  of  life's  struggles  ended. 
Thinking  of  peace  that  will  come  with  release. 
Dreaming  of  Death's  darksome  frown  ; 
Musing  on  raptures  supernal, 
Sighing  for  mansions  eternal, 
Longing  for  rest  'mid  the  throngs  of  the  blest. 
Dreaming  of  Christ  and  His  Crown. 


BETW'KKiX    WUJLhS 


«45 


BENEATH  THE  ROSE 


EXCEPT  the  pure  and  sinless  child, 
Each  soul  in  secret  mourns ; 
In  life,  as  on  the  ros€-bush  wild, 

The  blossoms  hide  the  thorns. 


i; 


r 

"I 

% 


DAY  BY  DAY 


a? 

■St 


ONLY  a  day  at  a  time  we  live, 
And  each  day's  cares  are  but  fugitive, — 
They  are  sifted  through  sleep  as  sand  through  a 
sieve, 
And  are  gone  ere  the  matins  chime ; 
The  heaviest  crosses  that  penitents  bear, 
The  thorniest  crowns  that  the  martyrs  wear, 
Are  borne  and  worn  not  always  and  e'er, 
But  only  a  day  at  a  time. 

Only  a  day  at  a  time  we  grieve, 

How  bitter  soever  the  woes  that  cleave 

Our  hearts  in  twain,  for  a  blest  reprieve 

Forerunneth  each  morrow's  prime; 
The  sighs  that  echo  our  soul's  dismay, 
The  scalding  tears  that  enforce  their  way, 

10 


I 


if 

■Si 


w. 


146 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


\% 


* 


I  li 


Are  sighed  and  cried,  not  forever  and  aye, 
But  only  a  day  at  a  time. 

Only  a  day  at  a  time,  my  soul :  '' 

Mourn  not  that  tedious  years  may  roll 
Ere,  our  pilgrimage  over,  we  reach  our  goal 

And  enter  the  heavenly  clime ; 
For  aught  that  we  know  the  end  may  be  near, 
And  Death's  pale  shadow  full  soon  appear, — 
But  we  need  not  heed  if  we  persevere 

Just  for  a  day  at  a  time. 


-WILL  YOU  BE  MY  FRIEND?" 


ini 


SHALL  I  he  your  friend?  'Twere  a  slight  re- 
quest, could  you  by  friendship  mean 

The  professions  loud  of  the  passing  crowd  that  we 
meet  with  on  life's  scene ; 

Just  to  nod  and  smile,  and  converse  the  while  the 
heart  is  never  stirred  — 

Could  you  think  thus  of  friendship's  bond,  then 
*'  Yes"  were  an  easy  word. 

But  if  you  mean,  as  you  do,  I  ween,  a  friend  like 
my  ideal, 

'Tis  a  jewel  rare  that  you  seek  to  wear,  true  friend- 
ship pure  and  real. 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


147 


Shall  I  be  your  friend  ?    Shall  I  mark  you  out  anH 

rank  you  far  above 
My  neighbor  of  the  universe  wh*- m  my  God  has 

bid  me  love? 
Shall  I  further  go  and  'mid  those  I  "know,"  set 

you  apart  from  the  throng? 
In  the  crowded  swarm  will  your  hallowed   form 

stand  forth  in  colors  strong? 
Nay,  more,  will  you   be  one  of  the  few  who  are 

friends,  not  '* friendly"  only. 
Whose  affection  blest  is  a  haven  of  rest  that  I  seek 

whene'er  I'm  lonely? 


Shall  I  be  your  friend  ?    Will  my  soul  respond  with 

an  echo  clear  and  true 
To  the  varying  tones,  be  they  glees  o;  moans,  that 

shall  thrill  thy  being  through? 
When  tha  cloud-banks  rise  and  obscure  thy  skies, 

will  their  shadows  darken  mine? 
Will   the   golden   beams   of  sunlight  gild  my  life 

while  tingeing  thine? 
When  the   arrows  fierce   of  affliction   pierce   thy 

heart  e'en  unto  bleeding. 
Shall  I  feel  for  thee  true  sympathy,  and   in  thy 

cause  be  pleading? 


r. 

¥ 


I 


I'm 


iF' 


^1 


148 


BETIVEEN   WHILES 


Shall  I  be  your  friend?  Will  your  name  be  one 
that  shall  ever  come  unbid 

When  I  bow  before  the  white-veiled  door  of  the 
cell  where  my  Lord  lies  hid? 

At  the  birth  of  each  day  when  I  kneel  to  pray  to 
the  holy  Three  in  One, 

Shall  I  ask  for  thee  that  the  night  may  see  thy 
duty  nobly  done? 

At  the  altar,  too,  shall  I  think  of  you  in  supplica- 
tion fervent? 

Shall  I  there  implore  of  God's  grace  still  more  for 
my  friend  and  His  meek  servant? 


Shall  I  be  your  friend  ?    Will  jach  tremulous  plaint 

breathed  out  by  thy  stricken  soul 
Wake  an  answering  note  in  my  heart  to  float  like 

some  sighing  funereal  toll? 
When  thy  dulcet  rhymes,  full  of  happy  chimes, 

more  sweetly  than  joy-bells  ring. 
Will  my  soul  rejoice  and  my  jubilant  voice  join 

thine  and  as  gladly  sing? 
Will  my  cold,  dead  words  of  the  warbling  birds  the 

magic  of  soothing  borrow? 
Will  they  laugh  when  thou'rt  glad?    When  thou'rt 

grieving    and    sad  will    they   chasten    and 

lessen  thy  sorrow? 


i»-  v 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


149 


Shall  I  be  your  friend  ?    Through  the  coming  years 

shall  we  cheer  each  other  along, 
O'er  the  desert  of  time  to  that  beauteous  clime  of 

glory  and  love  and  song, 
To  that  city  bright  of  entrancing  delight  and  bliss 

that  shall  never  cloy, 
Where  the  sad  are  blest  and  the  weary  rest,  and 

the  mourning  are  flooded  with  joy. 
Where  our  Virgin  Queen  sits  in  radiant  sheen  with 

none  but  her  God  above  her. 
Where   she   decks   with  gems   ri.b   diadems,   fair 

crowns  for  the  souls  who  love  her? 


-s. 


Shall  I  be  your  friend?    'Tis  no  slight  request, 

yet  clear  as  a  song-bird's  trill, 
Through  my  inmost  soul  does  the  answer  roll,  and 

the  answer  is,  "I  will." 
In  the  woe  and  strife  of  this  chequered  life,  in  its 

gladness  pure  and  deep. 
When  the  storm-winds  roar,  when  the  storm  is  o'er 

and  billows  are  lulled  to  sleep. 
In  the  gloom  of  despair,  or  when  hope  shines  fair, 

my  friendship  shall  fail  thee  never. 
Yes,  I'll  be  your  friend  to  our  journey's  end  — 

may  the  bond  endure  forever ! 


iff. 

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150 


BETWEEN    WHILES 


ECHOES  OF  TWILIGHT 


SOFTLY  fall  the  shades  of  even, 
Blending  twilight  into  night, 
See,  the  sentinel  of  heaven, 

One  lone  star  is  shining  bright. 

Perfumed  zephyrs,  gently  sighing, 
Woo  the  voiceless  trees  to  play ; 

Rustling  leaflets,  quick  replying, 
Bid  farewell  to  parting  day. 

Swiftly  are  the  moments  fleeting  — 

How  the  hours  hurry  on ! 
Scarcely  time  to  give  the  greeting, 

Or  employ  them,  ere  they're  gone. 

Of  the  years  whose  marks  I'm  bearing, 
Were  all  spent  in  worldly  joy? 

Or  were  some  used  in  preparing 
For  a  Home  without  alloy ! 

Were  they  spent  in  idly  dreaming. 
Painting  scenes  that  cannot  last, 

Or  like  diamonds  are  they  gleaming 
Through  the  shadows  of  the  past? 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


151 


SOME  DAY 


SOME  day  the  friends  we  hold  most  dear 
Will  vanish  through  the  portal 
Where  ends  each  long  or  brief  career, 

Death's  gate  to  life  immortal. 
Some  day  the  tokens  that  had  shown 

Our  faithful  love  and  tender, — 
The  smile,  the  kiss,  the  gentle  tone, 
We  would,  but  may  not,  render. 

Some  day  —  alas,  when  'tis  too  late. 

We'll  mourn  our  present  blindness, 
Who  still  keep  closed  affection's  gate, 

And  niggards  prove  of  kindness. 
A.h,  let  what  love  indwells  thy  heart 

In  word  and  deed  be  spoken. 
Nor  wait  the  day  when  Death  holds  sway. 

And  vain  is  every  token. 


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152 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


IN  A  YOUNG  LADY'S  ALBUM 


B 


EHOLD  the  handmaid  of  the  Lord,"  she  said, 
A  Jewish  Maiden  of  the  long  ago; 
"What  path  soe'er  He  wills  my  feet  shall  tread, 
No  other  will  than  His  my  soul  shall  know." 


Wouldst  thou,  fair  maiden  of  a  later  age, 
Partake  one  day  of  Mary's  rich  reward? 

Keep  pure  life's  album ;   on  its  every  page 

Write   first :     "  Behold    the    handmaid   of   the 
Lord  !  " 


A  CHANGELESS  LAW 


A 


S  THE  soil  is  rich  or  sterile,  will  its  yield  Vje 

great  or  small, 
But  no  mold  can  change  the  nature  of  the  germ 

thereon  let  fall. 
As  the  seed  is,  so  the  harvest:    only  oaks  from 

acorns  grow; 
Like  produces  like  forever,  and  we  reap  just  what 

we  sow. 


BETWEEN    WHILES 


'53 


i 


MY  LETTER 


OH,  MY  heart  is  sick  and   my  spirits  are 
low, 

There's  a  throbbing  weight  on  my  brain; 
The  tedious  hours  are  very  slow, 

And  life,  to-day,  is  a  pain. 
Tis  bitter  and  hard,  this  lot  of  mine, 

'Tis  but  labor  and  trouble  unblest, 
And,  a-weary,  I  long  for  the  day's  decline, 

For  night,  for  sleep,  and  for  rest.  , 

All  the  world  outside  is  joyless,  too. 

There  are  dull  gray  clouds  o'erhead. 
And  the  face  that  the  earth  presents  to  view 

Is  the  still  cold  face  of  the  dead. 
E'en  the  moaning  winds,  as  they  hurry  by, 

Wail   a   dirge   o'er   the    joys  that   ''have 
been"  — 
We  are  chanting  one  strain,  the  winds  and  I  — 

"  Life  is  bleak  without  and  within." 

The  postman's  knock?     Now  Heaven  send 

He  bears  a  letter  for  me ! 
He  does,  and  'tis  one  from  my  dearest  friend, 

In  the  hand  I  love  best  to  see : 


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BETWEEN   WHILES 


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Full  eager  I  scan  the  pages  bright, 
And  long  ere  I  reach  the  close, 

My  heart  grows  glad  and  my  spirits  light, 
And  my  soul  with  peace  o'erflows. 

I  turn  to  my  work,  not  tedious  now, 

'Tis  a  labor  of  love  and  joy ; 
No  saddening  fancies  cloud  my  brow, 

No  vain  regrets  annoy. 
And  there's  beauty,  too,  in  the  earth  and  sky, 

The  sun  the  dull  clouds  breaks  through ; 
And  the  breezes  echo  my  soul's  glad  cry, 

"  Oh,  blest  is  a  friendship  true  !  " 


AT  CLOSE  OF  DAY 


WHEN  the  long  day  is  done  and  of  duties  it 
brought  with  it 
Conscience  declares  we  have  overlooked  none. 
When  the  spirit  of  Indolence,  for  that  we  fought 

with  it, 
Found  us  resolved  against  dallying  aught  with  it. 
Sweet  is  the  sense  of  repose  fairly  won, 
When  the  long  day  is  done. 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


'55 


Be  we  never  so  weary,  at  length  there  is  rest  for 
us, 

Comfort  they  know  not  their  duties  who  shun ; 
For  the  demon  of  Idleness  proves  no  fit  guest  for 
us, 

Labor-filled  hours  are  sweetest  and  best  for  us, 

Freest  from  sins  and  remorses  that  stun, 

When  the  long  day  is  done. 

When  our  life's  day  is  done,  and  no  pleading  will 
stay  for  us, 
E'en  for  a  moment,  its  swift-sinking  sun, 
May  the  sum  of  our  work  with  our  Father  out- 
weigh for  us. 
Trespass  and  error  replete  with  dismay  for  us. 
Crowning  with  triumph  the  course  we  have  run, 
When  life's  long  day  is  done! 


''  ■'  I 


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156 


BETWEEN    WHILES 


IN  SUMMER-TIDE 


WITH    fragrant    perfumes    gently    sighs    the 
breeze 
Of  summer  o'er  the  woodland's  fairest  glade ; 
The  sweet  musicians,  hid  in  coolest  shade, 
Outpour  their  liquid  song  to  listening  trees ; 
The   purling   streamlet    through    the    greensward 
flees, 
Like    wayward    child    who,  wandering   as    he 

played. 
Has  far  from  cottage-door  and  garden  strayed, 
And  now  hies  home  to  gain  his  mother's  knees. 


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Who  would  not,  peaceful,  rest  forever  here. 

Secure  from  life's  rude  storms,  from  care  and 
woe 

Too  often  wrought  by  those  we  hold  most  dear, — 
Unmoved  by  fickle  Fortune's  ebb  or  flow, 

Commune  with  nature  through  the  changing  year. 
And  nature's  bounteous  God  more  truly  know? 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


157 


LOVE  OF  MOTHER 


COULD  mortal  eye  but  pierce  the  secret  cell 
Of  human  hearts,  and  bend  a  curious  gaze 
On   gems   there   buried   deep,  whose  lustrous 
rays 

Illumine  bright  the  ardent  thoughts  that  well 
From  gushing  founts  within,  'twould  often  tell 
A  tale  to  fill  our  soul  with  joy  and  praise: 
We'd  ponder  more  on  God's  mysterious  ways, 
And  on  His  mercy's  greatness  longer  dwell. 

For,  shining  clear  in  hearts  the  most  depraved, 
One  lovely  jewel  throws  its  gleam  above 

The  ruins  bleak  and  sad  it  fain  had  saved 

Ere  Vice's  blasting  steps  did  o'er  them  rove,— 

A  virtue  sweet,  more  potent  than  all  other, 

An  ever-glowing,  fervent  love  of  mother. 


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158 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


ON  A  PRIEST'S  GOLDEN  JUBILEE 


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THE  first  priest,  Christ,  for  many  years  and  long 
A  hidden  life,  obscure  and  lowly,  led. 
Afar  from  scenes  where  fame  and  glory  spread 
Their  nets  of  pride,  and  hold  in  meshes  strong 
E'en  noble  souls  who  move  amid  the  throng, 
Nor  flee  the  baleful  light  by  honors  shed  \ 
And  not  till  he  was  risen  from  the  dead 
Did  glory  greet  Him  in  the  Easter  song. 

"Another  Christ,"  in  very  truth  thou  art, 

O  Priest  of  fifty  years !      Like  His,  thy  days 

All  hidden  lie ;   like  His  thy  lowly  heart 

In  self-effacement  shuns  e'en  fitting  praise; 

No  transient  worldly  fame  is  meet  for  thee, 

But  seraphs  sing  thy  Golden  Jubilee. 


II 


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BETWEEN   iVHILES 


'59 


STEMMING  THE  CURRENT 


OO  TEMi.T,N(;  gleamed  the  river  yesterday- 
<J     The  tide,  half-flood,  uprushing  from  the  sea 

In  currents  swift,  its  wavelets  leaping  free- 
Ihe  while  upon  the  grassy  bank  I  lay 
Oppressed  beneath  the  torrid  sun's  fierce  ray 
That,  yieldino-  to  an  impulse,  speedily 
I  doffed  my  raiment,  cast  myself  with  glee 
Upoi;  ti'e  waters  cool,  and  swam  away. 

With  lusty  stroke  I  sped  me  with  the  stream 

_   A  mile  or  more  past  dike-bound  marshes  wide  • 

Then  turned  _  to  labor  long  with  toil  supreme 

In  buffering  that  rapid-coursing  tide. 
'Tis  ever  thus,  on  river  or  in  life : 
To  stem  the  current  is  the  real  strife. 


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1 60 


BET IV KEN   WHILES 


TOHN  BOYLE  O'REILLY 


YES,  rear  a  stately  column  to  the  sky, 
'Twill  tell  to  later  times  that  in  our  day 
Not  all  of  chivalry  had  passed  away ; 
But  still  there  lived  who  honored  purpose  high, 
And  would  not  willingly  Ht  wholly  die 

The  friend  of  humankind,  whose  songs  for  aye 
Shall  noble  souls  incite  to  join  the  fray 
Where  weaker  brothers  sound  their  battle  cry. 


But  rear  the  colu.nn  for  our  sake,  nor  deem 
He  needs  a  monument  who  still  lives  on 

In  countless  lives  that  glowed  beneath  his  beam. 
And  shared  his  [^lory  as  it  brighter  shone. 

His  fame  is  shrined  in  all  the  hearts  that  bled 

When  came  the  tidings :    "  Boyle  O'Reilly's  dead." 


Uj.  . 


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BETWEEN    WHILES 


l6i 


A  REWARD 


WHAT  talent  God  had  given  him  withal 
He   fostered  and  improved  from   day  to 
day, 

Toiled  oft  through  hours  purloined  from  sleep 
and  play,  ' 

Resisted  fi»m  the  swift-subduing  thrall 

Of  indolence,  and  heeded  labor's  call, 

Climbed  slowly  up  the  rugged  weary  way 
Towards   heights   illumed   by  glory's  dazzling 
ray, — 

And  won  at  length  a  niche  in  Honor's  hall. 

Then  looked  he  to  receive  from  friends  held  dear 
The  grateful  tribute  of  sweet  sympathy. 

And  joyed  to  think  that  his  success  would'cheer 
Full  many  hearts  he  loved  and  prized.     Ah, 
me ! 

Success  changed  friendship's  smile  to  envy's  sneer, 
And  won  him  homihes  on  vanity. 

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162 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


THE  PRICE  OF  FAME 


'It!' 


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WHO  thinks  to  overtop  the  common  crowd, 
To  climb  beyond  them  to  a  farther  height, 
Whose  scaHng  sets  at  naught  their  lesser  might, 
To  win  the  world's  acclaim  and  plaudits  loud 
For  meritorious  deeds  and  worth  avowed. 

Yet  hopes  escape  from  jealousy  and  spite  — 
Twin  foLS  that  fain  his  glory's  growth  would 
blight  — 
With  sanguineness  undue  is  sure  endowed. 

For  envy  base  on  merit  e'er  attends. 

Albeit  masked  and  robed  in  Virtue's  guise ; 

Full  oft  its  darts  are  launched  by  faithless  friends 
In  honeyed  words  and  hypocritic  lies ; 

Whoe'er  among  his  fellows  wins  a  name 

Soon  learns  that  Envy  is  the  price  of  Fame. 


^^ 


BETWEEN  WHILES 


163 


UNSHAKEN  TRUST 


'HE  angry  winds  are  howling  fierce  and  loud, 
The  storm-clouds  meet  in  combat  overhead, 

And  darkness  such  as  once  o'er  Egypt  spread 
Now  covers  land  and  sea,  a  dismal  shroud. 
On  board  the  trembling  bark  an  awe-struck  crowd 

Await  their  doom  —  perchance  a  watery  bed 

Far  down  amid  the  cruel  ocean's  dead ; 
And  women  weep  and  manly  heads  are  bowed. 


,.  J 


Yet  bravely  bears  the  ship  the  frequent  shock, 
Nor  yields  her  course,  though   raging  surges 
swell, 

But  flees  the  beach  and  shuns  the  hidden  rock. 
Despite  the  winds  that  shriek  her  ruin's  knell. 

E'en  thus,  true  friends  of  Christ  may  safely  mock 
The  fierce  assaults  and  furious  rage  of  Hell. 


,1 


164 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


If 


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THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS 


( 1492) 


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SUCCESS  has  crowned  the  hero's  bold  emprise : 
No   more    shall    hopes    and    fears    alternate 
sweep  » 

His  mighty  spirit,  or  disturb  the  deep 
Of  his  unfailing  faith.     At  length  his  eyes 
Behold  the  land ;   and  while  sweet  visions  rise 
Of  fruitful  harvests  Christ  therein  shall  reap, 
In  ages  still  within  Time's  womb  asleep. 
The  Cross  he  plants  beneath  these  new-found  skies. 


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Not  yet  to  ripeness  has  that  harvest  grown 

Great  Colon  dreamt  of  in  those  days  of  old  ; 

But  year  by  year  the  seed  is  wider  sown, 
And  ever  falls  on  softer,  richer  mold. 

Time  yet  shall  see,  as  did  Italia's  son. 

The  Cross  he  planted  rule  the  world  he  won. 


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BETWEEN   IVH/LES 


165 


ENVY 


M 


ID  all  the  passion-plants  upspringing  fast 
With    lusty  force    from    seeds   perversely 
strown  ^ 

By  Satan's  hands,  or  haply  by  our  own. 

Upon  the  heart's  rich  soil,  none  ever  cast 
bo  baleful  shadows,  nor  so  quickly  blast 

W.th    noisome   breath    sweet    blossoms    fully 
blown —  ^ 

^     Such  flovyors  as  thrive  in  Charity's  fair  zone- 
As  Envy  foul,  of  passions  base  the  last 
Oh    pluck  it  from  the  garden  of  thy  heart 

Whatever  specious  guise  at  first  it  shows ; 
Uproot  It  quickly,  for  thyself  shall  smart 

With  pam  incessant  while  unchecked  it  grows  • 
Nor  peace,  nor  joy.  nor  love  can  flourish  wLre  ' 
The  poison-ivy,  Envy,  taints  the  air. 


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1 66 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


THE  DUTY  OF  PRAISE 


GRUDGE    not    thy  friend  the  tribute  sweet  of 
praise 
When  in  thine  eyes  his  work  is  worthy  found ; 
Nor  seek  to  hedge  thy  eulogy  around 
With  cautious  word  and  qualifying  phrase, 
Through  fictive  fear  illusive  hopes  to  raise 

Of  coming  fame  and  years  all  honor-crowned ; 
Concede  him  as  thyself  a  judgment  sound, 
Nor  dread  to  set  his  vanity  ablaze. 

More  blossoms  droop  from  dearth  of  gentle  dew 
Than    weeds    grow    dank    beneath    excessive 
showers ; 
The  fruits  that  torrid  sunshine  blights  are  few 

To  those  that  yield  them  to  the  hoar-frost's 
powers ; 
For  every  silly  head  by  plaudits  turned, 
There  pine  a  hundred  hearts  for  praise  well-earned. 


: 


l^H 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


167 


STEADFASTNESS 


WASTE  not  the  present  hour  in  vain  regret 
For  prizes  forfeited  in  days  gone  by, 
It  naught  avails  for  fair  winds  lost  to  sigh, 
Or  mourn  the  glow  of  suns  forever  set; 
Entomb  thy  past,  bid  Memory  forget 

The  fixed  and  changeless  years  that  rearward 

lie; 
Charge  but  thy  soul  with  faith  and  purpose  high, 
And  life  shall  spare  thee  of  its  treasures  yet. 


The  now  is  thine,  a  goodly  battlefield 

Whereon  all  past  defeats  redeemed  may  be ; 

Be  stout  of  heart,  and  vanquished  foes  will  yield 
Thy  valiant  arm  a  path  to  victory; 

Tis  cowards    droop  and    moan,  "It  might  have 
been"  — 

*'  It  yet  shall  be,"  the  steadfast  cry,  and  win  ! 


r    ! 


1 68 


i9/:  r  WEEN    WHIL  ES 


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AN  UNCHANGING  PROBLEM 


OUR  wider  knowledge  proves  the  ancient  sage 
Whose  lore  the  world  revered  in  eras  gone, 
A  purblind  novice  striving  in  the  dawn 
Of  learning's  fuller  cl'^.y  to  spell  a  page 
Now  read  of  schoolboys :    yet  each  later  age, 
Old  problems  solving,  others  still  must  con : 
Life's  surface-puzzles  change  as  years  roll  on, 
And  questions  new  successive  times  engage. 


One  problem  only  constant  is,  the  same 
In  this  our  day  as  when  on  Sinai's  hill 

Jehovah  spake  athwart  the  lightning's  flame  — 
How  live  my  life?     Its  one  solution  still: 

Heed  not  the  babble  of  men's  praise  or  blame, 
But  love  thy  God  and  do  His  sacred  will. 


k^^-J: 


BET IV E EN-  HHILES 


169 


HOPE 


FAITH-BORN  is  hope,  and  in  this  transient  life 
While  faith  endures  hope  cannot  wholly  die  ; 
The  soul  that  sees  no  rift  in  darkest  sky, 
That  looks  not  on  to  triumph  in  the  strife. 
Though  now  in  straits  with  deadly  danger  rife. 
Has  lost  belief  in  Him  who  rules  on  high, 
And  where  her  faith  once  glowed,  dead  ashes 
lie : 

Hope's  cable  ne'er  is  cut,  save  when  the  knife 
Is  plied  by  faith  abandoned.     None  that  see 
With  eyes  of  faith  the  Mother  and  the  Son 
Indulgent  both  receive  the  sinner's  plaint, 

The  while  he  pardon  craves  on  bended  knee. 
Can  doubt  that  grace  may  change,  e'er  life 
be  done, 
The  wretch  most  guilty  into  glorious  saint. 


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170 


Bi:  T  WEEN   \  1 7//LES 


JUDGE  NOT 


BE  NOT  alert  to  sound  the  cry  of  shame 
Shouldst  thou  behold  a  brother  falling  low. 
His  battle's  ebb  thou  seest;    but  its  flow  — 
The  brave  repulse  that  heroes'  praise  might  claim 
Of  banded  foes  who  fierce  against  him  came, 

His     prowess     long     sustained,    his     yielding 

slow  — 
Till  this  thou  knowest,  as  thou  canst  not  kn»  a-, 
Haste  not  to  brand  with  obloquy  his  fame. 

"Judge  not,"  hath  said  the  Sovereign  Judge  of  all, 
Whose  eye  alone  not  purblind  is  nor  dim, — 

Perchance  a  swifter  than  thy  brother's  fall 

Hadst   thou    received    from    those   who    van- 
quished him; 

He  coped,  it  may  be,  with  unequal  odds, — 

Be  thine  to  pity ;   but  to  judge  him,  God's. 


HHi 


BETIVKKN   W'HJLES 


171 


ENDURING  FAME 


vV. 


THE  truest  glory  ever  comes  unsought: 
Fame  scorns  the  slave  who  bows  him  at  her 
shrine 

And  quaffs  the  world's  applause  like  sparkling 
wine, 

But  dowers  him,  the  man  whose  single  thought 
Is  duty  to  be  done,  whose  deeds  are  wrought    ' 
In  harmony  with  God's  own  plan  divine, 
Who  works  His  will,  still  hewing  to  the  line, 
For  others'  praise  or  censure  caring  naught. 

Most  famed  of  men  is  still  the  humble  saint 

Who  recked   in   life   nor  Fortune's  smile  nor 
frown. 
Alike  to  him  were  plaudits  loud  or  faint: 

Now  rings  throughout  the  world  his  fair  re- 
nown ; 

The  Church  approving,  tells  his  praises  o'er, 
And  shrines  him  on  her  altars  evermore. 


" 


!  Hi 


172 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


I   I 


THK  LEGEND  OF  BROTHER  EUGENE 


A  BRAVE  young  monk  was  Brother  Eugene  — 
He  dwelt  in  the  Convent  of  Breau  — 
Head-gardener  he,  and  right  well,  I  ween, 
Did  his  plants  and  his  lowers  grovv. 
Light-hearted  he  worked  througli  the  summer  day, 
And  sang,  as  he  toiled,  some  sacred  lay. 


3  ,iii 


M 


I;  i 

j  ! 
i'i 

M 

'  f.     '  V! 

ti 
Mm 
P 


Now,  the  Father  of  Evil,  the  chronicles  tell, 

Detested  the  monks  of  Breau, 
For  the  frequent  sound  of  their  convent  bell 

Was  heard  by  his  legions  below. 
And  every  stroke  seemed  to  chant  with  pride 
The  glory  of  God,  Whom  they  had  defied. 

So  Satan  commissioned  a  score  or  so     ' 
Of  his  spirits  most  cunning  and  deep 

To  hold  strict  watch  o'er  these  monks  of  Breau, 
While  at  prayer,  or  at  work,  or  in  sleep ; 

And  to  strive,  by  the  arts  they  knew  so  well, 

To  ensnare  recruits  for  the  service  of  hell. 


BETWEEN  WHILES  173 

The  watch  was  set  and  the  snares  were  laid 

For  each  of  the  monks  of  Hrcaii, 
And  a  daily  report  of  their  progress  made 

By  his  agents  to  Satan  below ; 
From  which  reports  the  Arch-Plotter  knew 
His  successes  were  slight  ones,  and  very  few. 

Undaunted  by  failure,  he  bade  his  band 

Persevere  and  be  vigilant  still, 
Bade  them  seek  for  chances  on  every  hand. 

Their  enemies'  souls  to  kill ; 
Assuring  them  all  that  persistence  would  win 
The  fall  of  the  monks  into  deadly  sin. 

But  as  time  wore  on  and  there  came  no  news 

Of  a  notable  victory  won. 
His  imps  he  began  to  upbraid  and  abuse 

For  leaving  their  duties  undone; 
And  he  bade  them  thereafter  remain  below. 
He,  himself,  would  attend  to  the  monks  of  Breau. 


He  brought  to  the  task  all  the  powers  for  ill 

Of  a  genius  distorted  by  sin. 
He  worked  with  the  ardent,  insatiate  will 

Of  a  conqueror  fighting  to  win. 
The  result  of  it  all :    O'er  each  brother's  life, 
Swept  a  storm  of  temptations  and  trials  and  strife. 


P  ■ 


Ms;' 


174 


BETWEEN   IVff/LES 


With  most,  the  struggles  were  sharp  and  brief, 
They  were  clad  in  the  armor  of  prayer ; 

And  the  devil's  schemes  always  come  to  grief 
With  the  few  who  that  armor  wear : 

But  all  were  not  victors,  for,  sooth  to  tell, 

In  much,  or  in  little,  full  many  fell. 


m  i 


i 


Success  only  whetted  the  fiend's  desire 

For  victories  still  riore  complete. 
And  wild  was  his  rage  and  fierce  his  ire 

'Gainst  those  whom  he  could  not  defeat. 
But  most  furious  his  an^cr,  and  bitter  his  spleen 
'Gainst    our     joyous    young    gardener,    Brother 
Eugene. 

For  Eugene  had  been  tempted  again  and  again, 

But  never  an  inch  did  he  yield ; 
He  scorned  all  the  wiles  of  the  demon,  and  then 

His  scorning  v^as  never  conc'ealed  ; 
And  he  slept  and  prayed,  and  worked  and  sang 
With  a  joy  that  caused  Satan  full  many  a  pang. 


o 


Yet  Satan,  though  vanquished  day  after  day. 

Would  never  his  hopes  forego 
Of  winning  at  last,  and  of  working  his  way 

With  this  champion  monk  of  Breau. 
So  at  last  all  the  rest  he  left  calm  and  serene, 
To  vent  his  full  rage  upon  Brother  Eugene. 


BETWEEN    WHILES 


175 


Then  came  trying  times  for  our  virtuous  youth, -- 
Through  the  livelong  day  and  night 

Temptations  assailed  him,  and  bravely,  in  truth, 
Did  he  bear  the  fierce  brunt  of  the  fight ; 

For   in   sunshine   or   gloom,  when  the  strife  was 
done, 

All  the  angels  rejoiced  that  Eugene  had  won. 

At  length  upon  Satan  there  dawned  the  thought 

Of  entirely  changing  his  plan ; 
Since  the  Brother  with  spirits  so  valiantly  fought, 

He  would  strive  with  him  next  as  a  man; 
And  once  more  endeavor  to  overthrow 
This  obstinate,  gardening  monk  of  Breau. 

Eugene  was  called  from  his  work  next  day 

By  the  porter.  Brother  St.  John, 
And  informed  that  a  traveler,  old  and  gray. 

With  features  chastened  and  wan 
(Who  came,  he  said,  from  the  village  of  Dean), 
Had  craved  permission  to  see  him,  Eugene. 

Now  Dean  was  our  Brother's  native  place. 
He  had  lived  there  as  child  and  as  boy, 

And  the  prospect  of  seeing  some  well-known  face 
Was  a  source  of  quite  natural  joy ; 

But  one  glance  at  the  stranger's  thoughtful  mien 

Assured  him  'twas  one  he  had  never  seen. 


B 


Hvr 


W 


176 


BKrWEEN   WHILES 


Abundant  tidings  the  traveler  brought 

Of  Dean  and  its  villagers  all ; 
And  one  might  have  fancied  he  eagerly  sought 

The  familiar  scenes  to  recall, 
In  order  to  fill  the  monk  with  regret 
F^or  the  choice  that  bade  him  the  world  forget. 

After  dwelling  at  length  on  the  pleasant  theme 
Of  the  friends  whom  Eugene  used  to  know, 

It  was  quite  in  the  order  of  things,  it  would  seem, 
To  speak  of  the  life  at  Breau. 

To  the  traveler's  questions  the  monk  replied, — 

And  the  traveler  shook  his  head  and  sighed. 


"What  fools,  these  monks,"  he  exclaimed  at  last, 

As  if  more  in  pity  than  scorn  — 
"So  they  think  they  can  alter  a  judgment  passed 

Long  ages  before  they  were  born." 
Eugene  was  astounded,  and  could  not  refrain 
Erom  begging  the  stranger  his  words  to  explain. 


{  ¥? 


"Explain,"  he  rejoined,  "why,  here  j'^;/  are, 
In  life's  springtime  of  joy  and  delight. 

The  design  of  your  beirg  resolved  to  mar, 
Your  existence  contented  to  blight. 

Why  shun  all  the  pleasures  and  bliss  of  earth?" 

"To  win,"  said  Eugene  ''a  prize  of  more  worth." 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


177 


"I5ut  whether  that  prize  will  be  yours  or  not," 
Said  the  stranger,  *<is  written  now; 

No  acts  of  yours  can  erase  or  blot 
The  seal  of  fate  from  your  brow. 

God  sees  you  in  heaven,  or  sees  you  in  hell ; 

Where  he  sees  you,  you'H  go,  live  you  ill  or  well. 


"Then    act    like    a    man:    since   the    future's   un- 
known, 

Be  happy  now  while  you  may ; 
The  joys  of  the  present,  at  least,  make  your  own ; 

Have  a  good  time  in  this  world,  to-day, 
For,  be  monk  or  gallant,  be  serene  or  be  vexed. 
You  can  never  alter  your  lot  in  the  next." 

The  latter  part  of  this  wily  discourse 

Was  quite  lost  upon  Brother  luigene; 

Me  was  begging  God's  light  and  sustaining  force 
Through  his  Mother,  the  Virgin-Oueen. 

And  she  heard  and  granted  his  fervent  prayer 

He  discerned  the  demon  and  saw  the  snare. 

'•And  so,"  said  Eugene,  ''  'tis  at  length  made  clear 

Your  design  in  this  visit  to  Breau. 
You  would  have  me  leave  it ;    but  really,  I  fear, 

I  cannot  consent  to  go. 
And  pray,  may  I  ask,  do  I  not  guess  well, 

In  thinking  your  Highness  the  Prince  of  Hell?" 

12 


178 


BETWEEN    WHILES 


J!       n 


"  And  if  you  are  right,"  was  the  stranger's  reply, 
"My  logic  is  none  the  less  sound." 

"Quite  true,"  said  Eugene,  "  and  I  doubt  whether  I 
Can  answer  such  logic  profound. 

Permit  me,  however,  to  throw  some  more  light 

On  a  few  of  your  points  which  I  think  not  just  right. 


i 


t\  A 


**To  begin  with,  you  take  it  for  granted,  I  see, 
That  my  life  here  is  joyless  and  bleak ; 

On  this  point,  at  least,  you  will  surely  agrc  e 
That  /  am  best  able  to  speak  : 

And  with  all  due  respect,  I  can  only  reply 

That  your  statement  is  wholly  and  simply  a  lie. 


If  ■ 


**  Then  you  say  that  my  fate  was  decreed  long  ago. 
That  my  lot  I  can  ne'er  hope  to  change; 

Now,  supposing  all  this  to  be  even  so, 
I  confess  that  it  strikes  me  as  strange 

That  yoH  work  so  hard  men's  souls  to  gain  — 

If  your  logic  is  sound,  then  your  work  must  be 
vain. 


r/« .,  , 


"That  God  sees  my  future  I  know  to  be  true, 

He  sees  that  I'll  live  well  or  ill ; 
Which  means  that  He  sees  what  hereafter  I'll  do 

Of  my  own  unrestrained  free  will : 
But  that  God's  foreknowledge  coerces  my  act, 
Neither  I,  nor  yourself,  believe  to  be  fact. 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


179 


"Once  grant  that  my  fate  depends  not  on  me, 
And  your  folly  becomes  most  plain ; 

If  I'm  destined  for  heaven,  'tis  clear  as  can  be, 
That  your  tempting  will  ever  prove  vain ; 

If  to  hell  I'm  foredoomed,  you  are  surely  an  ass 

To  work  with  such  zeal  for  what  must  come  to 
pass. 

"  But  of  this,  enough  ;    I  have  work  to  do, 

And  need  only  say  ere  I  go, 
As  the  final  result  of  this  intervlv-w, 

That  I  purpose  remaining  at  Breau." 
So  saying,  Eugene  bade  the  stranger  farewell, 
And  the  devil,  defeated,  returned  to  hell. 


ff 


fi 


r.ft  .   r 

r"'       ■       '  ! 


1 80 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


IN  OTHER  DAYS  AND  NOW 


(alumni  poem,  read  at  ST,  JOSEPH'S  COLLEGE,  N.  B.,  JUNE  21,   1R95) 


fli 


m 


■■% 


ly 


LIKE   fragrance   borne  by  summer  winds  from 
vales  where  roses  blow, 
Like  visions  seen  in  dreamland  fair  where   lights 

and  colors  glow, 
Like  echoes  soft  of  vesper  song  or  chime  of  distant 

bell, 
Are  thoughts  that  play  round  bygone  years  when 

Memory  wields  her  spell. 
The  past  though  fled  is  never  dead  to  him  whose 

sunny  youth 
Shone  bright  with  hope  and  lofty  aims  and  noble 

love  of  truth  ; 
Though  life  may  wear  a  sterner  mien  as  swift  the 

years  speed  by, 
The  magic  haze  of  other  days  ne'er  fades  fmin  out 

his  sky. 

Those  other  days  of  long  ago!    Ah,  sad  indeed  his 

lot 
For  whom  they  hold  no  witching  charm,  no  spell 

with  sweetness  fraught, 


^ih 


BETIVEEN   IVIIJLES 


iSl 


Whose  soul  doth  not  exult  with  joy,  whose  pulses 
do  not  thrill 

As  forms  and  scenes  of  life's  glad  spring  his  field 
of  vision  fill ! 

Not  ours  the  heart  to  play  the  part  of  cynic  cold 

and  set, 
Whose  sordid  prime  marks  youth  recede  without 

one  fond  regret; 
We    rather   fling  aside   Time's  veil    and  willingly 

allow 

The  golden  rays  of  other   days  to  beam  upon  us 
now. 


So  let  the  decades  backwards  fly,  the  present  fade 

from  view, 
The  hallowed  past  would  fain  to-night  our  hearts 

with  youth  renew.      ... 
Tis  done.     Ten,  twenty  years  roll  back  like  waves 

from  ocean's  shore ; 
Grave  manhood's  cares  go  with  them  —  and  we're 

college  boys  once  more. 
y\gain  we  feel  our  senses  reel  with  very  joy  of  life, 
Again  with  bounding  health  and  verve  our  supple 

frames  are  rife, 
Again   we    launch   our   buoyant   bark,   4nd    Hope 

peers  o'er  the  prow, 
A  pilot  fair  to  do  and  dare  in  other  days  as  now. 


mi 


ir 


;: 


H  ^  I 


182 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


The  world  holds  naught  of  dread  for  us;  'tis  but  a 

tourney  plain 
Whereon,  our  squirehood  over,  we  shall  tilt  and 

not  in  vain. 
We   shadow   forth   the   gallant  joust,  nor  doth  a 

doubt  arise 
That  lances  such  as  we  shall  wield  may  fail  to  win 

the  prize. 
E'en  now  we  hear  the  ringing  cheer  that  greets 

our  valor  proved, 
We  feel  the  thrill  of  triumph  proud  by  which  the 

victor's  moved ; 
And  what  is  this?    A  laurel  wreath  is  twined  about 

our  brow, — 
Sweet  siren  lays  of  other  days ;    there's   no   such 

music  now. 


i 


%'v. 


I 


w 

IN 


Yet  who  would  lose  the  memory  of  those  years  all 

free  from  care, 
When  Fancy's  nimble  fingers  built  our  castles  in 

the  air. 
When  dreams  of  future  glory  gave  new  zest  to 

present  joy, 
And  mild  contentment  steeped  our  souls  in  bliss 

without  alloy? 


BETWEEN   IV/f/LES 


'83 


What  though  no  crown  of  fair  renown  hath  sought 
us  in  our  prime, 

What  though  the  Hill  of  Fame  hath  proved  a  toil- 
some steep  to  climb ; 

Still  do  our  castles  and  our  dreams  deserve,  not 
blame,  but  praise, — 

They  glorified  life's  placid  tide  throughout  those 
other  days. 


But  what  of  Alma  Mater  in  the  decades  that  have 

flown? 
Looks  she  as  in  the  vanished  days?     Or  has  she 

haply  grown 
E'en  faster  than   her  elder  sons,  her  "boys"  of 

auld  lang  syne, 
Whose    presence    glads    her    heart   to-night    like 

draught  of  bodied  wine? 
Tis  even  so ;   and  while  we  glow  with  pride  in  her 

success. 

In  half-regretful  mood  we  muse  upon  her  olden 
dress : 

Yon  red-brown  wooden  structure  there  upon  the 
hilltop's  brow, 

Knew  all  our  ways  in  other  days  and  claims  re- 
membrance now 


;(       nt 


(<r 


it' 


1) .. . 


184 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


How  vividly  'tis  outlined  'gainst  the  shadows  of 

the  past, 
That  oldtimc  College  home  wherein  our  mental 

molds  were  cast. 
The  low-browed  rooms,  the  stinted  space,  the  worn, 

uneven  floor. 
The  plain  rough  desks  whereon  were  carved  initials 

by  the  score, 
.  box-stoves  quaint  that  made  a  feint  of  warm- 
ing chambers  two, — 
One  half  the  stove  in  either,  and  the  heat  all  up  the 

flue, — 
The  stage  we  built  as  need  arose  on  benches  in 

the  hall, — 
Such  means  and  ways  of  other  days  does  that  old 

house  recall. 


'  .1 

i     ; 

■>,    i 

i  V 

■    i 

i 

^^1  1 

f.:|,. 

t 

1 

X 

Yet  could  its  roof  give  back  the  tones  that  echoed 
there  of  yore, 

Or  could  some  Hogarth's  brush  the  sights  it  wit- 
nessed once  restore, 

What  merry  shouts  and  joyous  scenes  and  song 
and  earnest  speech 

Would  live  again  that  now  have  passed  beyond 
our  memory's  reach  ! 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


185 


there's  not  a  wall  in  room  or  hall  but  knows,  could 
it  but  tell, 

Full  many  a  reminiscence  would  repay  our  listen- 
ing well, —       , 

Of  frolics  planned  and  mischief  wrought,  of  strife 
for  College  bays, 

Of  duty  done  and  glorious  fun  enjoyed  in  other 
days. 


Ah!  well,  the  law  of  progress  long  ago  pro- 
nounced its  doom, 

And  the  old  brown  building  yonder  for  a  grander 
one  made  room : 

St.  Joseph's  halls  have  multiplied,  and  comforts 
we  knew  not 

Ensure  her  younger  sons  to-day  a  far  more  pleas- 
ant lot. 

Be  theirs  the  gain ;  to  us  remain  the  thoughts  of 
hardships  past. 

Of  hardships  so  transfigured  now  they  look  like 

joys  at  last. 
Tis  thus  with  bygone  trials :  when  bright  Fancy 

round  them  ;.!ays, 
They  but  enhance  Ihc  fond  romance  that  gilds  our 

other  days. 


■5" 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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-% 


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I/. 


% 


1.0 


11.25 


kilM    |25 

|30     "^        ■hi 

U£  Ui2    |2.2 


XL 


II  1.1   ?r  lis 


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yl 


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Photographic 

Sciences 

Corpomtion 


33  WEST  MAIN  STRKT 

WEBSTH.N.Y.  145«0 

(716)  •73-4503 


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<> 


lV 


<^  '>  '^qV' 


I/. 


^^ 


^ 


1 86 


BETWEEN   WHILES 


The  scenes  are  changed,  —  what  of  the  forms  that 
figured  once  thereon? 

The  old  familiar  faces  of  our  youth,  where  have 
they  gone? 

The  hundred  merry  comrades  of  the  classroom 
and  the  field. 

The  smaller  baiid  to  whom  our  souls  in  friend- 
ship's bonds  were  sealed  ? 

The  kindly  men  who  ruled  us  then  with  gentle 
hand  if  strong, 

Whose  practice  show  the  right  the  while  their  pre- 
cepts warned  of  wrong. 

Who  opened  wide  for  us  the  gates  of  science,  let- 
ters, art, 

Yet  bade  us  raise  in  other  days  to  God  our  mind 
and  heart? 


# 


Alas,  full  many  of  the  throng  we'll  see  on  earth  no 

more : 
Their  barks  have  shot  Death's   gulf  across  and 

reached  its  farther  shore. 
Professors,  classmates,  bosom-friends  —  the  ranks 

of  each  display 
Broad  gaps  that  Time  still  widens  as  each  lustre 

ebbs  away. 


BETWEEN  W  HILES 


187 


Remember  you  the  kindly  two  whose  voices  oft- 
times  rose 

In  old  songs  like  '•  I  Know  a  Bank  Whereon  the 
Wild  Thyme  Blows"? 

Death,  little  loath,  has  claimed  them  both,  and 
Alma  Mater  prays 

For  Walsh  and  Blodgett,  Dick  and  Joe,  beloved 
in  other  days. 


And  HE,  the  dearest  of  them  all,  the  noble  priest 

and  true 
Who  towered  high,  a  king  'mongst  men,  at  least 

to  me  and  you, — 
With    heart    like  woman's  tender,  with  faith   like 

prophet's  strong  — 
He  too  has  passed  beyond  our  ken  and  joined  the 

silent  throng. 
His  Hfework  done,  his  laurels  won,  he  closed  his 

weary  eyes, 
God's  angel  gently  sealed  them  fast — and  lo  !    two 

peoples'  cries 
Rang    out    in    lamentation    loud    for    Pere    Le- 

FEBVRE's  decease : 
We  sought  his  praise  in  other  days ;    God  rest  him 

now  in  peace. 


1 88 


B Em' KEN   WHILES 


I 


m 


More  Joshua  than   Moses  he,  'twas  given  to  his 

hand 
To  lead  Acadia,  ere  he  died,  within  the  promised 

land. 
To  us,  a  lifetime  father  fond  —  the  purest  of  his 

joys, 
To  mark  successive  honors  crown  his  old  St.  Jo- 
seph's boys. 
This  comfort's  left  our  hearts  bereft :    the  College 

of  his  love 
Is  guided   now  by  one  he  prized   all  other  men 

above ; 
Le  rot  est  mort,  our  king  of  yore,  but  when  his 

spirit  saw 
His  heir  succeed,  I  know  he  smiled  and  murmured, 

Fm'  /e  Roy! 


m' 


Peac^  to  our  dead,  Alumni  now  of  Life's  own  train- 
ing school. 

Where  we,  as  undergraduates,  must  still  observe 
the  rule. 

Ah,  through  Life's  college  each  may  pass  with 
honor  if  he  please, 

And  win  from  God,  its  President,  the  crown  of  fair 
degrees. 


BETWEEN    WHrr.ES 


189 


Peace  to  our  dead  !  And  ere  'tis  sped,  this  present 
that  is  ours, 

Let  each  of  us  his  lifework  build,  from  corner- 
stone to  towers. 

So  shall  we  deck  with  garlands  bright  old  Alma 
Mater's  brow, 

And  love  to  gaze  on  other  days  more  fondly  still 
than  now. 


